


Of spirits and men (and the burning paths they trod)

by ShaShirRa, SheDrabbles_butitsalie_ (ShaShirRa)



Series: Balancing Acts [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 13 is like the perfect age for that, AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because my Lore is more canon than canon lore, But I Love Them, Ever - Freeform, Gen, Give Zuko a hug 2k19, He should have rebeled, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am throwing canon in the trash, I don't actually know how long this will be, I think we'll call this Zuko's rebellious phase, I'm trying not to use them so much I swear, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh POV, Korra never happens in my AU, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV update: There are multiple, Physical Trauma, Probably multiple POV, Psychological Trauma, Spirit Shenanigans, Spirit World, This is an AU, Ursa POV, Using some real-life Gods/Myths because pre-Korra Spirit names are hard to find, Violence towards children, Warning: Contains my love affair with italics, What am I doing, Zuko is 13, also, and lighting it on fire, but there were things they couldn't address because KIDS SHOW, don't get me wrong I love canon, other tags to come probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:44:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 164,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaShirRa/pseuds/ShaShirRa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaShirRa/pseuds/SheDrabbles_butitsalie_
Summary: They say that in the beginning, Dragons taught the first fire benders how to live a life of flames and burning purpose. They say Agni chose the first Fire Lord because he was a boy with unending passion who became a man with great loyalty. Who better to lead his children than one who loved them absolutely? But times have changed. The Fire Lords stopped listening to him ages ago, and now - Now his real chosen has been spurned, cast out, abandoned.The Fire Nation will pay for ignoring him. The Fire Nation will answer for the imbalance it has allowed. The Fire Nation will not ignore him this time -he'll make sure of it.Book one: Chapters  > 1-21Book two: Chapters  > 22 -?





	1. Flames were not a comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/gifts).

> I've had less sleep than I should and more caffine than is probably legally allowed. Send help.  
(I don't even know what this is. I don't know what I'm doing. It's just a thing that's happening.)  
I came to a realization while fixing a plothole that some of my AU elements are heavily inspired by MuffinLance, and all her amazing work. You should totally check her out.

Midwinter was always hard -not as hard as it was in the colonies, or even in one of the poorer Providences- but this winter ... There was something different to it. Ursa had felt it as soon as the first cold front hit. Of course, what she was feeling might also be linked how pregnant she was -so pregnant she felt like a Lionseal that had been beached- but even feeling her little ones flutters never accounted for the _oddity_ tickling the back of her awareness. A subtle change in the air, a small _something_ that teased. At first, she'd thought it was the hand-maids she couldn't shake, watching her every move, reporting to her _husband_. But the feeling persisted even when she was truly alone, like now, sitting in her personal gardens. The small knowing something was there, as was the strong chill that had permeated her bones all winter. She had a nagging suspicion that it was possibly a spirit up to mischief, but nothing strange ever accompanied the feeling. 

(Nothing except the fires around her getting warmer, or candles flickering with new life, no matter how low the wick was. Nothing strange, except that no matter how warm it was around her, she was always cold.)

She was thinking herself into circles now, and that wouldn't do. The healers had specifically told her to stop stressing, and she was working herself into a good stress. Sighing, she shifted, intending to stand. Agni was sinking into slumber, and she'd found she tended to join him. The world was simply too cold without his light. She felt a ... something, a pull at her lower body, and then liquid slicking down her legs and she was panicking, because it was still two weeks too early and-

She was in her rooms, when had that happened? Her lower body pulsed and clamped, and the midwife was urging her to push-

(It was still too early!)

She was told to push.

(It was the middle of winter)

They kept telling her to push, but wasn't she pushing?

(It was also the middle of the night. These were so many bad omens at once, Ursa was half afraid that feeling she'd been having was Yama's gaze on her unborn child what if-)

They were telling her to breathe now, and by the spirits, _she would punch the next of them to tell her to push, because she was pushing_-

(Yama and his minions could not have her child. He was _hers_. She wasn't sure why she knew it was a he, but it was, and he was hers!)

The pressure on her lower body had stopped some time ago, and they'd stopped telling her to breathe, to push, and she could hardly do the latter, but she was trying to ask-

(She wanted to know if her baby was born, and if he _lived_, because if he didn't, she would go to the spirit world right now. She wasn't afraid of spirits -not when they may have taken her baby-)

A weak sound came from a bundle of silks that the midwife hesitantly brought to Ursa, the older woman's gaze wary and worried, but Ursa focused on that sound. It was weak, and so exhausted, as if being born had simply been too much. The first time she saw her son, he was pink and wrinkled and ugly and **_beautiful_** and so, so dear. Except he was having trouble breathing, and he looked too pale under the fresh-born pink, and she was terrified all over again that Yama and his minions really would take her baby. She watched him, and smacked at the people fussing at her, and she did everything she could to make sure her beautiful, precious boy ate and breathed and _lived_. By the time morning came, she and her boy were begrudgingly clean, and she was pacing wobbly by the windows. She'd been praying fervently to Agni, _begging_ him to help her baby _just keep breathing_. Ozai had not yet come to see them. She wasn't sure he would bother -gossip spread fast, and everyone knew his son had been born _weak_. Not even a cry. Even now, he struggled to do more than _whimper_.

(Then Agni's first rays broke the horizon, his great eye cracking a sliver to peek at his lands, and that _feeling_ came back, but it felt focused, and her boy, who'd been pale and shivering and whimpering went still. It broke her into a whole new panic, thinking his heart had truly stopped on her, but he warmed drastically in her grasp and -)

Zuko's first bellow in life was to the new-broken dawn, Agni's rays shining down on him merrily. He bellowed with great spirit, and generally made it known to one and all that he was, in fact, alive, and that they should be _ashamed_ for not paying attention to that. 

(Iroh joked to her that morning when he visited that the boy would be a good officer in their army, as long as he was bellowing all the right things. Ozai said nothing at first, his eyes cold and calculating as he looked at their child. He didn't fight her on the naming, and that was her first clue that he wasn't satisfied with a child that had been born under all the wrong omens. Ursa was all right with that, because in her mind, there was not a more _perfect_ little boy. He had come to life to greet Agni, and maybe, just maybe, he had stayed alive because of Agni. She loved her son, though she'd truly known him less than a day. _Latter, much later in life, this love would work against her and her son. She was never sure if she regretted it._)

* * *

Zuko had thought that today would be a good day. A slightly _nerve-wracking_ one, but a good one. He could prove to his father just how far he'd come. He could prove to Azula that -well, he wasn't sure what he wanted to prove to her. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he was a good bender -that she was just biased because no one was impressive next to her. He did know that beating that general -he wanted to send Fire Nation soldiers to certain doom? Deplorable! Those were Zu-the _Fire Lords_ people!- would be a small victory over her. Azula might be a _prodigy_, but she's never fought in an Agni Kai. He was ready. He could do this. He would do this -because someone needed to protect their people- and maybe-_finally_ his father would be _proud_.

Retrospectively, thinking the day would good should have been his first clue that things would go _very wrong_. Anytime he thought he'd caught up to the wild game being played against him, things went wrong. Like finally being able to bend, but being bad at it. Or finding out he was a good swordsman, then being banned from practice. Thinking he could show off just as well as Azula and then watching his mother get erased from their lives as if she'd never been.

(He still wasn't positive that the last points were connected, but he _thought-feared-suspected_ that they were.)

So, of course, it wasn't the general standing there when he turned. Of course, it was the _last man in the world he'd ever want to fight_ standing there, under Agni's rays. Agni's rays which seemed so bright and angry, the usually comforting warmth a searing heat on his skin. Of course, it was his father standing above him, the full force of Agni's disapproval behind him. This was the moment he realized he'd made a fundamental mistake.

(He couldn't do this. He couldn't fight his father. His father was the _Fire Lord_, the _voice of Agni_, and by the Spirits, he could not lift a hand against him. He was a loyal son, both to his father and the heart of his nation. Fighting the Fire Lord was an impossibility.)

  
_(As ever, this was the wrong sentiment to have._)

And now. _Now_.

The hand that gripped his throat squeezed and _squeezed_ and **_squeezed._** The light blinding his left eye was also burning him, and oh _Agni_ it hurt. He'd known fire could hurt -Azula had taught him that, and everyone knew fire wasn't safe, there had to be control- but he hadn't ever thought it could _hurt like this_. It hurt until his stomach heaved and his heart was a wild Rabbit-Cat in his chest. It hurt until he wasn't sure if he was still screaming, or hearing himself scream. It hurt until he tasted blood and smelled seared flesh and it hurt no matter how much he wished it didn't. It hurt until he wasn't sure if he was still conscious or too numb to feel anything anymore.

(Either way, when the pain took him under into darkness he went willingly because the darkness was better than the blinding, searing light. The Darkness was better than the last thing he saw before the world was _burning-brightness-pain.)_

_(His fathers' lips twist in a not-good smile, the glint of heady not-right happiness in his fathers' eyes. Anything was better than remembering that.)_

**You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.**

Zuko didn't even know he fell at his father's feet to dead silence. He didn't see that the sun, Agni's great eye, was covered by clouds so suddenly, even the Fire Lord looked away from the mess he'd made of his firstborn child. Zuko didn't see the storm that raged for the rest of the evening. Zuko didn't see that the night came with such a chill, it was as if Agni had removed himself completely from his throne above them. Zuko had no way of knowing that the instant his Father's hand fell towards him and the following decree of banishment was rendered, Agni felt such a rage at the people he claimed as his, he _melted _his own throne in the Spirit realms. Zuko had no way of knowing that this was _the proverbial last straw_.

* * *

Iroh had seen and done many terrible things -not the least of which was plotting to kill his own insane brother- but being forced to stand there and watch Ozai break his own child was ... It was the last straw. His friends in the order would surely forgive him going off-script if they knew the particulars. Even if they didn't ... it changed nothing. He'd already planned to get his nephew away from all this wrongness, the boy was too _good_ for it, but _this_\- 

(His nephew screamed, and Iroh looked away. He hadn't intended to, but he couldn't watch. Watching risked everything. Watching meant taking the chance that he _wouldn't_ hold himself back when he felt like showing his baby brother that despite his _lack of diet_, Iroh was still very much the Dragon of the West.)

Iroh had his contacts in place even before his nephew was carried to the infirmary. Iroh was already devising a plan, one his brother would jump on for many reasons, and one that Iroh could quietly control despite Ozai's best efforts to twist it into a punishment. Iroh had gotten good at giving smart men a way to bury themselves -and while Ozai was smart and conniving and _power-hungry_, Iroh hadn't survived his brother this long by being _simple_. Ozai thought he was a broken old man, imprinted on Ozai's own son because Lu Ten had been ripped from him on the field of battle, and that was fine. (It was also a partial truth. Those always made the best lies after all.)

(Much later, sitting across from his brother while the man slyly _smugged_ about his actions, while the man belittled Iroh for the many innumerable things Iroh had _given_ him as ammunition, Iroh had to focus on his breathing like never before. It took concentrated will not to kill his brother then and there. It was, in Iroh's mind, _almost_ the most impressive amount of control he'd ever implemented.)

(The first place would forever go to the _minutes-hours-days_ he'd had the man who'd killed his son in his grasp. He'd stretched the torture until the fool had willingly given him everything, including the name of the monster who'd hired him to kill Lu Ten. The second place went to that first _hour_ on the pier when he finally drug himself home, and saw Ozai again. Saw the smug satisfaction in his new Fire Lord's face. He felt that _now_, sitting across from his brother, would be the third. It was sad that every moment where he'd been overcome with killing rage, his brother was always responsible, and the direct _recipient_ of the rage.)

By the end of that day, Ozai had declared that if Prince Zuko could find the Avatar, his banishment would be redacted. He announced that his gracious brother had volunteered to accompany the boy, and ensure he stayed on task to return home as soon as possible. He very publicly tried to impress the public with all the mercy he was showing, and for the most part, it worked. Except in the secret shadows, which Iroh made sure were full of whispered truths and half-lies, gossip that would slip quietly under the pulse of the city and corrupt the minds of those who saw flaws in their Fire Lord. 

Ozai tried to offer a ship, but Iroh had quietly procured his own, and already sent notice through his many contacts in the navy that he was looking for a discreet crew, and that the Dragon of the West wished them to know it was a potentially dangerous mission they may not come back from. Those who didn't know him well thought this was a lark, but the ones it was meant to reach understood. He and his nephew had a crew by the following morning, and they very pointedly did not look at the bundled, unconscious prince as he was loaded onto his ship. Ozai did not see them off, but Azula showed up at the last minute, glaring at the ship and Iroh and _everyone_ like they were responsible for some dirty trick. Iroh (shamefully) was both relieved and saddened that they had to leave the girl behind. 

(He'd found her, the night before, sitting by Zuko's side, smiling a chilling smile. It was the first time in her life he'd realized the smile wasn't directed at anyone in particular. It was like a mask she'd become so used to wearing she didn't even know she hadn't taken it off. She'd whispered something to Zuko that sounded angry and sad and confused, and then flounced away when she realized that Iroh was there. These were the moments Iroh remembered that Zuko was barely _twelve-thought-it-was-close-enough-to-thirteen_, and Azula was only _ten_. He was still trying to make a plan that worked when he placed Azula in it, but she made things hard -primarily because everything ended up on _fire_, with her at the center of it, shrugging _elegantly_ at the flames.)

If, at any time during his planning, Iroh noticed that his ideas were encouraged by familiar voiceless words drifting around him, by an incredible warmth settling on his shoulders while he planned, he paid it little mind. He also didn't pay too much mind to the fact that the Fire Nation Capital was shrouded in clouds, but as soon as they were out to sea, Agni's rays were there, warm and welcome and encouraging. He had no way of knowing what kind of turmoil this caused the Capital. 

* * *

Zuko wasn't sure if he hated the sea, but he knew he hated the _Wani_. It was small, and crowded, and his balance was already bad, he didn't need the sea making it _worse_, _thank-you-very-much_. He was also fairly certain that some of the crew wanted to pity him, which he hated, and he knew his Uncle pitied him (what else would you call that look he got any time Zuko _flinched_ from the candles?) and he hated that even more. They'd been at sea for a _month_. He'd been _banished_ for a month. He'd been away from _home_ for a _month_. Banished forever, from the only home he knew, with nothing but a rag-tag crew of _probably-trouble-makers_, and his Uncle. Forever. His Uncle wouldn't tell him everything that happened after he'd _fainted_ at his father's feet, and none of the crew even knew how he'd got hurt, only that he was banished now. He wasn't about to share _that_ with them, not even if they shared with him. 

(They were probably never going to share with him, because he was a _banished_, _dishonored_ prince, and he was angry all the time, which meant he was shouting all the time. People didn't like being shouted at, he knew from experience with instructors, but at least he wasn't twisting their arms or smacking them, so he tried not to feel so guilty.)

(He mostly failed at not feeling guilty.)

The waters rose in front of him, splashing against the railing in a way that would have been calming if he wasn't afraid of the salt seeping into his bandage. His Uncle had decided to take them to the Western Air Temple, since it was so far from the normal naval patrols no one would notice their ship lingering there before they moved on. Zuko didn't know why his Uncle was bothering-the Avatar was dead and gone, everyone knew that that. He wanted it to _not_ be true, but in the last month, he barely had the energy to insist on changing his own bandages. He wasn't sure he had the energy to tell Uncle that the Avatar simply didn't exist -he knew his Uncle wanted to go home as much as he did, but ... but it had been a hundred years, and people had already _looked._ The waters rose again, and Zuko carefully stepped away from the railing, heading -_with minimal wobble, thank Agni_\- to the bow of the ship. He found Uncle there, smiling into his teacup as he always was. It was ... disheartening, to see his Uncle _pretending so well_ that being away from home didn't hurt. Zuko should probably practice pretending better.

"Nephew! There you are. Come, sit. Have a cup of tea! This is a new blend; Northeastern Jasmine and ginger. It's supposed to do wonders for sore muscles, and aching joints, of which an old man like myself has many." His Uncle chuckled a very Uncle-like chuckle, and Zuko sat with as much grump as he was able to muster.

He drank the tea with about as much enthusiasm as he had the last pot they'd shared, his eyes wandering to the ocean every now and then. Agni's eye was open and bright above them, his rays a gentle warmth on his skin, so unlike ... so unlike the Agni Kai. He wondered how Agni could go from gentle to angry so quickly, how he seemed to have forgiven Zuko so much faster than Fath-than the Fire Lord had. He wished he could ask. Maybe ... maybe he should know the answer already, but his _head_ (see: eye) was starting to hurt, and he realized his Uncle had been talking, but he hadn't heard a word. 

"What?" the word was more a growl than he wanted it to be, and he hated himself for that too, especially when Uncle got that look in his eyes again, and looked like he might hug him and Zuko- 

He wasn't sure when he stood, but he was standing, staring at his Uncles outstretched hand, and his breathing felt off, and he watched Uncle's eyes go wrong, and-

He muttered something about resting and walked away. His room was dark when he entered, and starkly empty, but he almost preferred that with only half his vision and in order to light the room he'd need to -to light a candle and he-

He couldn't. He hated when his Uncle did, but he never said anything, just tried not to flinch every time the candle flickered, and stayed away from the flames and-

He had to focus on breathing before he could fall asleep, and his dreams-

(Flames. Flames that crawled up his legs and embraced him, became one with his breath until he was choking on them. If his fear weren't so sharp he would have realized that the flames did no such thing, merely ringed him in gentle warmth, became one with him to protect, not destroy. Had he not been so afraid, he would have seen the figure cloaked in gold and fire, who watched him sadly from beyond the flames. His dreams that night, as always, ended with him being devoured by fire.)

* * *

For the first time in what felt like forever, Zuko had energy, and if anyone accused him of getting it only after they reached land, he'd deny it wholeheartedly and then bellow something appropriate at them. His balance wasn't as bad on land as it was on the ship -helped in no small part by the fact that he could go some days without any bandages and healing salve. Today was one such day, his scab a twinge on his face, but otherwise, it was ... he wouldn't say better, but it was a slight patchy weight to his face that for right now _didn't hurt as bad as it could_. He was learning to take what he could get from life.

(He was also secretly grateful that his Uncle had quietly packed some bandages just in case, because he could feel something that might have been a blister getting ready to burst.)

(Zuko hated that he could feel when a blister was about to burst.)

"Look, Nephew." Uncle Iroh's voice drug Zuko's gaze from the mountains and twisting paths below, and towards the ravine ... and the impossible buildings beneath the edge of the rim.

The space inside him that was actually still a twelve-year-old boy wonders how hard it would be to repel or climb down. Wonders how the ancient nomads carved these temples. The man he was forcing himself to be didn't care, simply trailed after his Uncle as they climbed down steep, winding steps to the temples underfoot. They sat waiting and silent, ancient and empty, like old treasure chests that had been long since emptied of loot. Zuko wasn't sure why the sight, the _atmosphere_ was so upsetting, but he didn't like it. 

(He was already feeling upset, because they'd had to stop halfway down the steps and apply a bandage. His blisters had popped open and now his face hurt more.)

They poked through several temples, his Uncle keeping up a running commentary on the architecture and the supposed ancient ways of the long-dead nomads. Zuko was having trouble remembering all but the most basic facts about why his people had been forced to war against the Air nation. His instructors had hated that he never paid attention, but they always went on and on about political decisions behind the war and 'the foreseeable benefits to eradication,' that Zuko had never _really_ understood. What did eradication have to do with war? War was about _honor_ and the _good of the people_, not destroying as much as possible. The only thing in those long lessons he'd truly retained had been that they had needed to bring the nomads to order before they released the Bridge between worlds on the hapless people of the Fire Nation.

Then he saw the first of the skeletons and he knew that today may have started alright, but by the end of it, he would have _new nightmares_.

(This wasn't nearly as upsetting as his face hurting, because it was already an accepted fact of life that Zuko couldn't have nice things for free.)

He would have been fine with the prospect of nightmares if the next series of skeletons hadn't been too little to possibly be adults, and then he found-

** _Flames and hurting brightness, the fire ate at him like he was a treat, his fathers smile the thing that was seared into his mind._ **

It was clearly an adult, the one in front. Collapsed in front of a whole bunch of bones that were smaller than Azula, their remains, picked clean and long since without flesh, _seared_ around the edges. He wasn't sure how he knew those pieces were seared, but he _knew_. 

(It never occurred to him that when people said there were _no_ nomads left, they didn't just mean that their non-benders and children had been taken into colonies and shown the way of the Fire Nation. It never occurred to him that when people said '_there are no air nomads left_,' they meant that _none had been left alive_.)

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring at those bones -those _children_, whose remains had been left huddled and ruined, backed into a corner, but when his Uncle found him he was shaking from a chill wind he hadn't noticed before he'd found the-

**_Flames and pain. Burning brightness. Smiles that were wrong._**

He _cried_. It wasn't the first time he'd cried _since_, but it was the first time he let his Uncle _hold him through it_, his knees so weak under all his stupid armor they were kneeling in the age-old grime and wind-swept dirt of a forgotten, plundered people. He cried, and his Uncle held him, and he wasn't really sure if he was crying for _himself_ or for the children who had _died by fire_, or if it was both.

(He secretly hoped it was purely for the children whose last moments had been his _personal nightmare_. He'd already decided all his tears for _him_ were stupidly _selfish_, and these forgotten kids didn't need that. They deserved honest mourning, not mourning tainted by self-pity.)

Agni's rays, warm and gentle and so soft on his skin, were sinking in the sky by the time he ran out of tears. His Uncle didn't run out of soothing, wordless noises, his grip _soft-firm_ and his gaze clear but sad, and Zuko wasn't sure which of them looked worse, but it was probably him. He couldn't speak, even when he tried, because his throat felt closed over and raw, but Uncle seemed to understand, because he patted Zuko's hand and hummed as he set up camp.

(Zuko wasn't sure he actually did understand, because if the banished prince had been able to talk, Zuko would have shouted about how the young are _non-combatants_. He would have shouted about how _no_ child should have to die this way. He would have shouted treasonous things like 'what was great grandfather _thinking_,' or 'did he know? How could he not?,' or worst of all, 'why are our school children led to believe that this is _justified_?')

He's wasn't sure he wanted to camp next to the bones, but he also wasn't sure he could walk very far, so he merely forced himself to stand and managed to make it to where Uncle had set up the tent gear before he collapsed again, his back to the bone grave he'd just stumbled away from. Uncle made tea, and spoke quietly about the tea's qualities, and when they would leave the next morning, and where they would go from there, and he talked about everything but what had set Zuko off. He patted Zuko's hand, and hummed quietly when he wasn't speaking, and overall acted as if they were carrying on a conversation that had _meaning_.

(Zuko doesn't know a lot of things, but he has always known that _honor_ and _loyalty_ require certain things to thrive in one's mind, and even though he'd already lost his honor he thinks that maybe-possibly this _field trip_ killed _any_ of his _honor_ and _loyalty_ that remained. He's positive his Uncle doesn't know this, because this is treason again their _Fire Lord_ and _Agni's will_. He hates to think that Agni asked for this, but the Fire Lord is his voice, and a Fire Lord ordered the nomads -_all of them_\- killed. He decided to never tell his uncle any of these thoughts, because even though he's thinking he doesn't want to go home now, Uncle clearly did.)

"Nephew." Zuko looked up at the unexpected seriousness to his Uncles tone, his mind a little fuzzy and throat still raw, and found the older man watching him with -well, Zuko wasn't sure. He'd never seen that kind of look before, and Zuko usually remembered looks. (Look were _important_. They told him if his instructors were already short on patience and likely to hit him, or if Azula was having a bad day and might _burn_ him.) 

"Sometimes, it is better to be without a scroll, than to believe it's words entirely. Wisdom comes from braving the winds, and seeing where they pull one's ship."

At Zuko's confused (_see_: disgusted) look, Uncle laughed a big-bellied-Uncle-Laugh, his smile a soft, soothing thing. The old general started the fire pit, and Zuko was proud when he only flinched a little as the flames danced to life. 

"One day, you will see the truth of my words."

Zuko managed to help his uncle set up the tent -he only got things wrong twice, and Uncle didn't get mad either time, merely chuckled _his_ chuckle and helped him get it right. If he noticed that Zuko tensed both times he messed up and watched Uncle from the corner of his good eye, he pretended _not_ to have noticed. They ate a pre-packed meal of smoked fish and rice cakes -and Zuko had to force himself to eat, no matter how much his stomach rolled every time the fire popped unexpectedly. He was working on bending again, but it was slow going and torturous, because he couldn't ever keep himself calm enough to try and _practice_. Uncle knew this -how Zuko wasn't sure- because he never asked Zuko about bending, not even here, where they sat so far from the _Wani_ the crew would never overhear if he asked. Instead, he talked about the proper way to set up camp until Zuko was drifting to sleep against him. 

He didn't remember his Uncle helping him roll up in a blanket inside the tent, only that his Uncles hands were a comfort where they should have terrified him, and his voice was whisper soft as he bid Zuko goodnight. In his sleep-muddled mind, this reminded him that Uncle wasn't _technically_ banished, but was _still with him_. Sleep-muddled Zuko wisely decided that this meant Uncle cared, not that he was being forced to babysit him, but come morning, he would forget this.

(He dreamed of fires and _bright-burning-hurting_, but for once, it wasn't him the flames were eating alive. Instead, he was rooted to the spot, watching in horror as they swallowed one small child after another, each of them bald and wearing flowing robes reminiscent of the carvings he'd seen all through the temples. He screamed each time, no matter it did the child no good when he shouted at them to _run dammit run _and they stood as rooted to the spot as him. At the end of the nightmare, the flames took on the form of a fire nation soldier that then turned to him and-

it wore his father's face, and was smiling that _not-good_ smile, with that _not-right_ happiness in wild eyes. The _flames-turned-Fire-Lord_ attacked him next, and he died the same way the nomad children did. _Rooted to the spot and screaming in terror._)

* * *

When they got back to the _Wani_, Zuko locked himself in his room and pulled out his meditation candles. If his nightmares had done anything, they'd reminded him that his father had (_maybe possibly_) already killed two members of the royal family. He didn't want to believe that his father would contemplate killing him, but the man had already shown he was capable of personally breaking the people that disappointed him. 

(Zuko had been a disappointment to his father his whole life. That it had taken the man twelve years to do something about Zuko was the only real surprise, if he let himself look into that corner of his mind. He didn't often look into that corner of his mind.)

Zuko was now on a ship that was (_most probably_) manned by people loyal to the Fire Lord, and he was miles away from home. His Uncle would keep him safe, but his Uncle also wasn't going to always be at hand. If Zuko wanted to survive his (_probably forever_) banishment, he needed to be able to defend himself. That meant getting over his fears and _bending_. 

(It might also mean he would need to quietly take up his swords again, which someone had been thoughtful enough to stuff into his things. He suspected it was Uncle, since his father would have just as soon thrown the Dao away if heard they were found in Zuko's rooms.)

He took a shuddering breath, tried to even the next one out, and used a shaking hand to light the first candle. It went _disastrously_ (to be expected) because his breathing was all over the place and the flame kept jumping, and it ended up a _melted, waxy mess on his table_. That was alright. He _told himself_ it was alright and it was fine and overall tried not to faint because he wasn't breathing. When he finally managed to get a _not-shuddery-or-shaky_ breath in and out, he scraped up the melted wax and tossed it into the corner. He turned to the next candle. 

(If there was anything he was good at, it was throwing himself uselessly at the same objective over and over again. It had worked with his bending the first time around, and with swordsmanship, and with general training, and _learning how to walk with only one good eye_. It would work here. He couldn't afford for it not too.)

\------ 

Agni watched with no small measure of satisfaction as his chosen took his first steps on the path Agni had laid for him. It was nice when his children did things all on their own -he did so hate shoving them onto the answer until they realized they were supposed to be doing something. He hadn't expected the first temple to be so effective -he'd thought maybe at least it would take one more- but he was glad that his chosen had such a good heart. 

(Sadly, he suspected the boy's own fears and healing wounds had a large part to play in restructuring the way he viewed the fool his people called Fire Lord.)

Now ... now all he needed was for his Dragon-given-human-skin-and-thought to walk his Chosen through his training. When he was ready, Agni would ask his sister for help. It was time, after all, for the Bridge to stop sleeping. The world was more than distracted with other matters, it would be safe for their Bridge to walk the human realm again, to learn why he was necessary. But not yet. Soon -but not yet. Agni smiled again, his eye turned fully towards his chosen and his little ship as it crawled through the surface of La's domain. He whispered requests for cooling breezes to his cousins the North and Eastern winds, and overall made sure those of his children on the _Wani_ knew they had his blessing. 

(They felt it, in the soft comfort of heat that was there under every chilling breeze. They felt it in the way his eye seemed always focused on them, and how cheered it made them feel to wake to the full force of his light every day.)

________

Elsewhere, the Capital was in quiet confusion. Agni's eye always opened in the sky, but his warmth was distant and cool. They didn't feel his passion burning on their skin, nor did they feel as energized of late. There were more and more days of cloud cover, and there were some days that they only saw his light through a shroud of heavy clouds. Most didn't notice all of these particulars, but their strongest benders did, and those men and women quietly sent missives to the Fire Sages, making cautious inquires as to Agni's mood and predictions. They never received any replies, but this was due more to the fact that the Sages were just as baffled as everyone else who'd noticed. The Fire Lord assured those who asked that all was well, Agni merely had his eye on other, more important matters. 

(Of all the people the Fire Lord told this lie to, telling it to the _High Sage_ was his first mistake. Shiza had seen and heard many things in his time as High Sage, but Fire Lord Ozai _daring_ to tell him that everything was fine when it wasn't was an all-new level of absurd. He'd known that Agni wasn't pleased, hadn't been pleased for the last eighty years, but he hadn't expected their God to simply turn away from them ...except he hadn't, had he? Agni's gaze had gone distant the very same day their _banished_ prince was driven to the seas. High Sage Shiza spent several days communing with various spirits over this line of questions, and after, he sent so many letters to all his sages, stretched near and far. The message was very simple. _Agni has found his Chosen. Agni protects his chosen._)

It was telling that none of his order had to ask who Agni was protecting if not their Fire Lord.


	2. Treason tasted like tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sleep? What's sleep?  
Much like the first chapter, I'll be writing this sporadically, in between not-sleeping and working.  
One again, while fixing a plothole I realized that some of my AU elements are heavily inspired by MuffinLance, and all her amazing work. You should absolutely check her out.

"Good, good. Again!"

Zuko contemplated, not for the first time, how much energy it would take to drown himself. Probably more energy than it was worth, and less than just doing the kata again would take. He would rather do a more advanced set, but Uncle -he'd learned the hard way- got snippy if Zuko just did whatever he wanted. He didn't seem to care too much for Zuko's argument that he'd 'been way past these katas back home, why did he have to start over just because Uncle was teaching him,' and had shown his displeasure by calling a halt to that training and pulling out a Pai Sho board. Zuko had learned to stop arguing after that, because Pai Sho was more confusing than any political debate his instructors tried to force him into back home. He'd rather just do the baby-katas until he was blue in the face. He set his feet and braced his weight. A quick hip twist and another firm stance later, and an arch of flames was shooting around him.

(He had to remind himself, not for the first time, that he should be happy he could at least bend around other people, so really, baby-katas were best because you didn't have to have big, impressive flames. He could keep them small and not have people give him funny looks. It had taken six months on the _Wani_ and six months of wandering from port to port before he could get this far.)

The peach-fuzz that was his hair itched something awful, but he ignored it as he set himself up to start the kata over again without his Uncle telling him to. He'd cut all his hair off and had his Uncle help him shave last month. It had ... felt wrong to wear a symbol of honor, of status. He'd been quietly finding reasons everything his people believed in was wrong, why none of it made sense, and how ... how the Fire Lords _before_ must not have gotten it right. More, the longer he was with his Uncle, the more he realized that his fath- that the _Fire Lord_ who held the throne ... well, he wasn't the right one. Agni was blessing them. After the Agni Kai, Zuko had thought Agni must be terribly mad at him, but over the last seven months, they'd had fair seas and good winds. They always ended up in a port willing to trade with them, even if they'd intended to go to a different one. Agni's eye always felt like it was peeking right a them in the morning. Zuko knew why. 

(Knowing why hurt, having all his suspicions quietly confirmed.)

His -the _current Fire Lord_ had stolen the throne under odd circumstance, and during a time when the real crown prince was in another country, and dealing with a personal loss. Ozai was never supposed to be Fire Lord, because _Uncle_ was suppose to be the real Fire Lord. Uncle was Agni's blessed chosen, unconfirmed by the Fire Sages that would have given him the title, the voiceless voice of Agni. Zuko wondered if his Uncle even knew, but he doubted it, or he wouldn't be so obsessed with tea and Pai Sho and making Zuko do all these baby katas.

(If he knew, Zuko thought there maybe might have been more signs of ... Well, _treason_, but his Uncle jusy _drank tea_ and played _Pai Sho_, and loyally followed all Fire Nation rules and dictates in regards to banished Princes and where they were allowed to go. Even if those rules only seemed a day old and came from suspicious sources -like the provisions distributer from the last port.)

"Alright Nephew, come, come. Enough for today!" Uncle chirped, waving him over from where he sat peacefully at the bow, sipping his most recent pot of tea. 

Zuko begrudgingly swiped a cloth from the place outside his practice ring and moved over to join his uncle, watching him watch the tea in his cup with a quiet, knowing smile. 

"You must remember to take things slow, my Nephew. It takes only a grains worth of rot to soil a good crop." 

Zuko scowled at the proverb just because he _could_ (it hardly pulled at his scabs now, when he scowled) and he carefully took a sip of tea. He had no idea what the name was, but it was bitter-sweet-tartness on his tongue and he liked this one better than the last. Uncle was watching him carefully, and by the way his smile shifted from secretly amused to quietly pleased, Zuko knew he'd given away his preference, but he refused to acknowledge his tea preference any more than his Uncle refused to acknowledged his right to the throne.

"Why is it always tea and proverbs?" He grumbled (he was getting good at grumbling) as he took another sip. 

Uncle only smiled some more and his eyes went all stupid soft. 

"Like wild Jasmine, we must not be afraid to unfold towards Agni slowly; be afraid only of never taking the chance to grow under his light." 

Zuko wasn't sure how to take that one any more than he was sure how to take _most_ of his Uncles proverbs, so he scowled and huffed then decided to go take a bath (but only after he finished his tea) and he walked away with as much disgust for proverbs as possible.

(Uncles laughter followed him the same way Agni's touch on his skin grew impossibly more comforting, and without even realizing it, Zuko had a good day that didn't turn bad. Without realizing it, he'd already had a lot of them in the last six months, but this would be the first he _remembered_.)

* * *

It was fair that when _breaking the law_, plans should go awry. Zuko had a lot of time to stew on this as he focused on breathing slow and deep and _quietly_. He was concentrating a lot on the quiet part so the fire benders combing the streets above wouldn't realize he was in the sewers below. The sewers that would have smelled horrendous nine months ago, before he'd had half his face burned off and became intimately acquainted with the smell of _searing flesh_. There were -he'd also had time to realize while hiding- _much worse_ things to smell in life than a sewer. At least the sewer he could wash off. 

(No amount of scrubbing would ever get his face back, or remove the vivid taste of _burning_ from his senses.)

The bundles at his feet didn't slip (further) into the muck, and the pack on his back would have to be thrown away, and overall, if Zuko could just make it back to the _Wani_ before dawn, he could pretend this whole thing never happened. 

"_Captain -I-colony streets-check-below?_" The distant, highly muffled voice was too much for even Zuko's hearing to pick up every word, but he decided he didn't like the sound of them either way. Time to move again. He had a lot of time, between hefting the bundles onto either arm creatively so he could still pull a sword, and trying to navigate a sewer tunnel, to contemplate again how things could have possibly gone so wrong with his plan.

** _Eight hours prior_ **

He'd forgotten how much he _hated_ most military men. Zhao did a very good job _reminding_ him, all within the first five minutes of imperiously boarding the _Wani. After _forcefully getting in the smaller ships path, so they had no choice but to come to a halt. Uncle was standing directly beside him, smiling and chuckling and overall pretending to not have a care in the world. Zuko was having a little more difficulty pretending he was _un_bothered by Zhao waylaying them. They were running low on supplies, and Zuko was itching to not be stuck on the _Wani_ for much longer. Even following Uncle around while he (Zuko did an admirable job suppressing a shudder) _shopped_ and _bargained_ with the locals would be preferable to another day spent constantly readjusting his center of gravity. 

(Zuko would die before he ever admitted to anyone ever that he _liked-not-hated_ the sea, and that navel life was kind of _weird-cool,_ and Cook had warmed up to him enough that he told him _stories_ about all the ships he'd served on -but never why he was serving on this one now- but there were days where constant ocean and distant land was too much. Today was one of those days.)

"Ahhh, Captain Zhao!" Zuko was pretty sure that shiny new insignia on Zhao's shoulder meant either _Admiral_ or _Commander_, and that Uncle knew that too, but he enjoyed the way Zhao pretended his eye wasn't twitching. "How very nice to see you! We were just about to have our afternoon tea before we made port. Would you care to join us?"

Zuko was very good at discerning looks and non-verbal cues-

(You had to be when your little sister was Azula, who was both a prodigy and _slightly insane_, with no idea how to express emotions normally. Being able to read her expression better than she could hide it from him had become a survival tactic. He failed that particular tactic with _her_, but he'd become very good at _normal people_ as a result.)

So he noticed the subtle, not-good twist to the Commander's lips that was there in a flash then gone. He took that, and the slightly eager look in the man's eyes when he looked at Zuko as his _first clue to survival_, so he was prepared for the Catagator smile the older man sent him.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time, General. I'm here as a _favor_, from our Fire Lord to _you_. The fire nation has requisitioned the territory you're trying to sail into. It's so ... _fortunate_ that I caught you before you went much further, or I might be _arresting_ your dear Nephew right this moment. You will turn this ... _vessel_ around." Zhao had stopped looking at Zuko, which was good, because he wasn't sure what kind of face he was making. 

(He hadn't been prepared for that. His Uncle did a good job pretending he'd been prepared for that, thanking the General profusely then simultaneously inviting him to stay while insisting he go. Zhao sent him a _look_ before he finally left, smug and creepy and not good. The day grew a little warmer as Zuko let all the intricacies of what Zhao had just said sink in. It grew even _warmer_ as Zuko numbly watched his Uncle ask Jee to bring the maps -because they needed to correct their course.)

This was _distinctly not good_.

(The smug, superior tone Zhao used to talk about Zuko's ship was also not good, but he chose to ignore that in favor of focusing on the bigger issue.)

If the borderlines had changed, that meant everything could have flipped around. They no longer had a safe harbor to haggle basic supplies from, and likely wouldn't until someone managed to figure out which ports they could legally dock in with a Banished Prince on board. That could take days or weeks, because there were only so many of them that had reliable contacts in the _know_, and they didn't have supplies for days or weeks. 

(Zuko wasn't one of them who had contacts, because he'd sent only two letters since he'd been banished and neither had given a reply.)

Zuko watched while Uncle and Lieutenant Jee passively pretended not to be arguing over whether they could possibly dock the _Wani_ off-shore somewhere nearby and send one of their skivvy's for supplies. Whichever Helsmen was on duty must have already gotten the memo, because they were turning around, heading towards a stretch of islands that Uncle was positive would be safe. They argued about water-rights and borderlines, and _rules of banishment_.

He slipped away from the arguing men, and ended up in his room, going over their numbers one more time. He knew he was right -they could last another day or two at most, and if they stretched it, they could last a couple more, but they shouldn't _have_ to stretch it. _The Port was right there_. It made him furious, looking at the numbers he'd been angrily recounting, to realize that his crew wouldn't be treated like this if he weren't on board. It made him _sad-mad-frustrated_ to realize how much his father didn't care. 

(Every time Zuko thought he understood the rules of the game, someone changed it on him, and it was beginning to piss him off.)

His eyes landed on the Blue Spirit mask he'd hung on his wall, above his swords -the only decoration he'd added to this room that would probably be his home forever- and an idea struck him. It was a terrible thought, not so much a thought with words but an image of a spirit given life, doling out justice and punishing the wicked. On the heels of this image was an even better idea, one that Zuko knew his Uncle would hate. But Uncle would never have to know, would he? He hadn't ever been able to tell when Zuko was sneaking around at night _before_ -you got the best information in ports from bars, he'd found, but only if people didn't know you were _there_\- and he already had a disguise and everything. Plus, it was bleeding into winter. The benefit to winter was that the nights came _early_ and stayed _late_, and if he was careful, it would be so easy to break all the rules they kept _changing_ anyway. 

Zuko had a plan now, or at least, the beginnings of one. 

_______

They took their ship around the island and let down anchor so a team of foragers could go quietly hunt some extra supplies. Zuko recommended it to Uncle because Zhao had said -_in not so many words_\- that any ship with Zuko on it wasn't allowed in port, and since Zhao was guarding the port and wouldn't let anyone from his ship near it, he wouldn't mind if they _scavenged_ the island.

Iroh agreed that it was a good, temporary plan, especially when no one followed their ship around the island. It took the better part of a day for them to reach a point everyone felt safe with, and Agni was sinking into the sky by the time their people came back, with far less than Cook had been hoping for but enough that they could stretch their dry supplies a couple more days. Lt. Jee wanted to leave, but Zuko pushed them to stay. 

"If the team is willing to get up and go out again before Agni rises tomorrow, we can leave before his eye is fully open, and have just a bit more food to stretch. The next port is _two and a half weeks away_. We'll need everything we can get." 

(Lt. Jee specifically didn't mention that this was the only suggestion Zuko ever gave that didn't involve shouting, and that it was made _all the better for it_. It was also the cold truth -they _would_ need everything they could get, especially since the fish in this area tended to try and drag fishers under. His silence spoke for him, if the Princes look was anything to go by.)

Iroh was both proud and suspicious of the determined light in his Nephews eye, but he ultimately settled on staying proud. After all, what kind of trouble could the boy get into when they were _miles_ from a shore he was forbidden from setting foot on? His Nephew may be slowly seeing the faults of their nation's greed, but he was still a _loyal_ son of the fire nation. He wouldn't lightly break their -_or his fathers_\- rules. 

(Agni, as he was slipping from one horizon to another, thought it was hilarious that no one saw the devilish glint in his Chosen's eye for what it was, and almost pitied the Dragon-who-walks-and-thinks-like-man. He started his tread on the land of night in a _gloriously_ _good_ _mood_.)

_______

It had been ridiculously easy to sneak out a porthole and away on a skivvy. Zuko was -not for the first time- slightly concerned about the security of his own ship, but he thought that maybe this was an issue he couldn't bring up without revealing that he _snuck out_ of the ship often enough to _know_ they had poor security. So. Maybe the security was fine for now. He made good time on the water, and good time on land, and by the time he'd slipped into the port town, it was deep night and he was a _shadow_. 

(It was possible that if he'd known any normal tweleve-year-olds, he would have found his ability to row miles over the water's surface and not feel tired, or trek over heavy jungle at night and not get turned around odd. As it was, Zuko knew no other tweleve-year-olds, and had been forced to undergo rigorous training since he could walk. True, it would have been easier if he were bigger, but he'd still made it. He was very good at focusing on singular objectives.)

He knew where the provisions office was, but he was thinking that maybe a cart already loaded for the docks would be a better target. Or maybe multiple carts. _Or a whole cart!_

(He had to take a moment to calm himself down, something made slightly harder behind the mask, but he managed. When he had cleared his thoughts, he settled on just one target, and since they'd heard about pirates coming into the area, he was hoping _they_ would be blamed. This wasn't a far-off hope. There were, in fact, pirates in the dock doing nefarious things, but he wouldn't know that until later-ish.)

He chose a cart in the back of the provisions yard, one _shrouded in shadow_, and well away from the guards patrolling the perimeter.

(It's funny how alike banished princes and pirates tend to think when they're doing something they know they shouldn't be.)

He was quieter than an elephant mouse as he poked through the supplies, found enough storable goods to last them to the next port at least, and several packs of tea that didn't smell horribly bland. (Uncle hates bland tea.) He dropped the bundles of foodstuff under the cart, then went back for the tea when he heard a _shuffle-shuffle-thunk_. He rolled into the supplies cart on instinct, pressing himself carefully into a narrow space that still had a view, and he waited. Someone stopped in front of the cart, breathing a little too heavy to be a guard, made small sounds that were probably numbers, if Zuko focused. There was a small shift in weight beneath him, and he knew that whoever it was had just climbed _into_ the cart, likely to get a better look.

(In retrospect, Zuko decided that this was exactly where things went wrong.)

He made a split-second decision, because whether this was a guard or a pirate -_though he couldn't imagine how pirates had gotten away with docking anywhere near Zhao_\- he was not about to let them spoil his cover. A big, lumbering head entered his poor peripheral, and Zuko _moved_. It was very nice of whoever this was to have gotten so low, so Zuko could reach their nice, oddly proportioned head. There was a thunk of flesh meeting flesh, and someone started cursing -and flailing at the dark- so Zuko hit him again. It took another hit before the _cursing-flailing-noise-making stopped_, and Zuko decided that all that cursing had _definitely probably_ attracted attention, so he grabbed a random bag from the supplies and shoved Uncles tea inside. 

(More retrospectively, Zuko thought that maybe, he should have considered the pirate option a little more realistically.)

He waited for a heartbeat, then another before he quietly slipped out where he knew the shadows were heaviest and- there were _people_ heading towards the cart. _People not guards_. Zuko dropped and rolled underneath the cart, tugging the bundles of food deeper into shadow. He couldn't see a lot from his vantage point, but from the few, whispered words he caught and the way they were dressed Zuko realized they _were pirates_. They were pirates surprisingly upset with finding one of their own _knocked out. _Pirates, at least, were marginally better than fire nation guards, but not by much. 

"Whoever did this will _pay_. Get Tiny back to the ship, and do it _quiet_. The rest of you, fan out a look for whoever did this. If we have a rouge guard playing hero, we'll teach him a lesson about _breaking deals_."

Zuko both _did_ and _did not_ understand what that meant- 

(He understood that these pirates were here _stealing_ fire nation supplies. He understood that there was no way Zhao wouldn't have burned down their ship if he noticed it, because that seemed like the kind of guy Zhao was. He understood that they were here regardless, _stealing supplies_, and now they were looking for him.)

Zuko's breathing shuddered only once then evened out.

(He chose to ignore the fact that they were looking for him because he was _also_ stealing supplies, and they'd _interrupted_ him.) 

There was no way these pirates were going to catch him. He was a _shadow_.

(He didn't understand what anyone had to gain from letting a bunch of pirates steal supplies. He also didn't understand how the pirate he had knocked out was named _Tiny_.)

He didn't have time to care. He needed to get these supplies back to the ship, so he spent a stupid amount of time sneaking and slinking from one hiding place to another. The nice thing was that none of these pirates seemed well versed in tracking. The not-nice thing was that they wasted so much time looking for him and stealing as they went, that a set of guards was drawn by the _incidental noise_ that occurred every time Zuko was forced to knock one of their people out. If he learned anything from this experience, it was that Pirates had hard fucking heads.

(Retrospectively, he should have been more focused on finding a way out than evading them. He might have found the sewer entrance that much faster.)

The resulting three-way fight involved the Pirates swinging wildly at anything they didn't recognize -_which occasionally meant Zuko_\- and the Fire Nation guards employing the use of fire -_which Zuko avoided with great aplomb, not because he didn't want to use his bending, but because their fires weren't _gentle_ like Uncles but angry and he still wasn't sure how well he was dealing with that_\- and Zuko utilized his swords, which he mostly used to knock people out or _slice ankles_. 

(Their cook wasn't a bender, or a ground soldier, had been a naval cook for _decades_, but he had once told Zuko the most effective way to stop another person from attacking you was though vicarious use of _ankle slashing_. He'd even shown Zuko were to slash, and tips for how creative to get. Zuko availed these tips judiciously against the pirates.)

(He _maybe-probably_ wasn't loyal to the _current_ Fire Lord, but that didn't mean he wanted to cut up his people for selfish reasons.)

By the time the Pirates were apprehended and all the guards were turning towards him, Zuko remembered that sewers were a thing that very few people thought about, and he managed to disappear into the shadows. The soldiers were very determined to _try-and-kill-that-thing-with-fire_ and set about looking for him _determinedly_. Right as Zhao and another solider -a captain, Zuko thought, but he wasn't positive- came on the scene. Zuko decided, even before he managed to quietly get himself and his cargo into the sewers, that he was _never leaving the shadows again_. Zhao would most definitely try to kill him first, and ask questions later, _after_ he'd been unmasked.

(Then, Zuko was pretty sure the man would pat himself on the back in a _job well done._)

** _Now_ **

Zuko looked about carefully before he pulled himself and his cargo from the sewers. It was nice _and_ worrying that all these _gaping holes_ into the sewers had been left over from construction. He checked again to make sure he hadn't been followed, set the bundles of _thank-Agni-so-carefully-wrapped_ food bundles down and let himself rest for a few minutes. Zuko used this time to allow himself some good, _panicked_ breaths which mostly succeeded in increasing his heart rate and not dropping it. Once he'd let himself think over every bad thing that had _almost_ happened, he could mostly breath better.

(Because all the bad things that _could have_ happened _didn't_ happen. He wasn't sure when life had started _not_ taking any opportunity to hurt him, and he wasn't sure he trusted it to keep _not_ hurting him.)

Once he felt that he was calm enough, he put his mask back on, eyed the still dark night critically, then sighed as he leaned over to pick up the foodstuffs again. He thought that he was _definitely_ going to set these clothes on fire instead of having them washed, just as soon as he got back to the _Wani_. If he was lucky, he would get back _before_ that foraging crew headed out, and he could get these supplies into a secret but _clearly-obviously-visible_ space that was easily overlooked, but not really _hidden_. Cook had told the foraging team he was going to recheck everything in the morning to let them know how much they should try to bring back. If Zuko got there in time, they wouldn't have to send the foraging team onto an island of fire benders that Zuko had accidentally stirred up. They could leave. 

He made _very good time_ getting back, but again, he was very good at doggedly focusing on a task until it was complete. 

(Uncle wasn't sure how they missed all those packs of rice, flour, dried noodles, and Cow Hippo jerky. Zuko felt like he did a really good job pretending to be just as flabbergasted, even hummed in partial disgust when his uncle went on to describe the surprise packs of tea that had also been discovered. They left as soon as they could coax the engines to life, and Zuko pretended a cough and headache, then went to blissful sleep. Agni's eye blinked merrily down at them, and the minor destruction left in Zuko's wake as their craft fled towards more friendly waters.)

* * *

Iroh contemplated his tea leaves quietly, not sure if the ..._messages_ he was receiving from Agni were altogether correct. It was possible that he was interpreting them wrong _but_ ...

Zuko didn't seem to care for finding the Avatar. He, of course, shouted about his _honor_ or grumbled about _going home_, but only if prompted, and he never did seem in a hurry to actually _go home, _or start looking in earnest. He no longer talked about his father in a _reverent_, _blindly faithful way_, hadn't since the Western Air Temple. Iroh was ...well, _not upset_ at his nephews' apparent slow change of attitude -he fooled _no one_ when he pretended not to like sitting with Iroh drinking tea, watching the waves go by- but _confused_ by it. He had thought it might take a few _years_ to slowly guide him towards an alternate way of thinking. He had feared that his impulsive, _reckless_ Nephew would be angry and bitter and well ... _shouting more_.

(It also hadn't escaped his notice that if they were refused something at a port that had a _heavy fire nation presence_, that something tended to unexpectedly show up a few days after their departure, in a place that was _obvious_ once you saw it and _easily overlooked_. Iroh had his suspicions about why these things kept happening, but not _how_.)

Even now, the boy in question had spent hours attentively walking himself through a minor kata, without being prompted to, a look of concentration on his face as he -ah. That would explain the _lack_ of shouting. His Nephew spun his dao through the moves of the kata as if they were extensions of himself -so much so, flames sparked and sliced along the blade's path on every downward stroke. He hadn't realized the boy had carried them out with him, but he was glad he had. There was something relaxing about watching the flames dance over the metal, sparking in time with his Nephews even breaths. Times like these were a stark reminder that his Nephew was an _impressive_ bender for his age. 

(Zuko didn't think so, but then, Zuko had been a late bloomer in the same way Azula had been an early one. Everything seemed _too easy_ for his sister where it was _too hard_ for him, but as soon as you stopped comparing the two and Zuko was allowed to practice somewhere he thought was '_safe_,' you saw the competency in his movements. He was, for his age, a prolific bender -and it showed in the way some of the crew subtly watched from the Princes blind spots.)

"Nephew, will you not come join me for tea? You have been practicing for some time." He called, pouring a cup for the boy, then refilling his own. 

(Recently, he found that Zuko rarely refused any of his requests. Found _loopholes_ in them, naturally, but never _outright_ _refused_. A good example of this was when he'd requested that his nephew stop _scaling_ the watchtower to get to the top, and his nephew had responded by applying a _grappling hook_. He was _flabbergasted_ when Iroh suggested using the _ladder_.)

He heard a soft sigh, and the distinct sound of sheathing metal before his Nephew appeared in his peripheral, wiping absently at his forehead. The boy sat with only a short, nonsensical grumble, sipping at his tea slowly. Iroh only saw the brief, surprised smile that twitched his nephews' lips because he was looking for it. He was building his Nephew a 'flavor profile,' a tea type Iroh could fall back on when the boy needed to _remain calm_. So far, anything _sweet-spicy-bitter_ did the trick. This was a little disappointing, as it meant he couldn't enjoy the more complicated blends Iroh preferred, but it was also nice to know his Nephew _liked_ his tea.

(Even if he never admitted it in so many words.)

A small pulse of heat on his back, like a soft nudge, and Iroh sighed, glancing askew at Agni's great eye before he looked to Zuko. The young prince wasn't watching him, was watching the waters pulse past the ship. Nearly ten months into their banishment, and the scar on his face didn't look so angry anymore. The boy had quietly admitted to him the week before that he was sure his eyesight on the left side wasn't going to get any clearer than faint blurriness. Iroh mostly succeeded in not being angry every time he saw proof of his brothers' insanity, but today -with a fresh reminder of that his Nephew was many things, but _not_ a failure- he had to force the anger down before he could speak. 

"Nephew ... forgive me for saying this, but you don't seem _eager_ to find the Avatar." 

He timed it so that Zuko had already taken a drink, already swallowed, but his boy coughed anyway, looking a little startled then -_brief panic, a small flash of worry-shame before he scowled at his Uncle_\- huffed out a quick breath. 

"I'm ... _researching_! The last account of an avatar was an air nomad _child_-" A small _hitch_ to his voice, and both of them remembered the Western temple, "and- and I'm not sure if the child actually _died_ or was _secreted_ away. If the former then ...the Avatar cycle is probably dead, but there is no way to _prove it_. If the later, they've either been in hiding or died naturally decades ago. The next place to look would be the South or North poles. 

Iroh made a small, non-committal sound, watching his Nephew carefully watch him, then slowly picked up his own tea, keeping his voice quiet, even though they had no need for secrecy. The men on this ship were loyal to _him_.

"Zuko, my ...Nephew, a single pillar of stone, no matter how _big_, cannot support the weight of a _house_ on its own." That elicited the _disgusted-with-proverbs_ look Iroh had been hoping for, so he continued, smiling at his Nephew in the way he'd learned the boy found _comforting_. "You do not wish to return to your father or nation, do you Nephew?" 

The look his Nephew gave him was somewhere between '_I'm sorry to let you down, but I don't have any more ribs for you to crack,_' and '_I have been in this trap before and I will not be caged again.' _Iroh carefully reached out to his nephew, slow and steady, then pulled the boy in for a long hug. Nothing else needed to be said. His nephew would never trust words -they were, after all, the primary reason his world view had been _shattered_.

(He may be slowly having a change of heart, but he still wasn't ready.)

_______

In the Fire Nation royal palace, in the dead of night when all reasonable people were asleep, a single, quiet figure dropped from the ceiling to the floor of the Fire Lords office. It took fifteen minutes of careful rummaging before they found what they were looking for. The soft pad of feet had the figure disappearing into shadows so swiftly, one would have had to _see_ them to know they were there. Ozai entered his office just as quietly, but for different reasons than the shadow.

He had a missive clutched in one hand, slightly singed around the edges, a _scowl_ set in place on his face. Zhao was _still_ having trouble tracking his idiot brother and _worthless_ son. The last the Admiral had seen the pair, their small ship had been miles ahead of Zhao's, headed towards _another_ Earth Kingdom port. Reports said his brother's ship docked at the ports for a few days at a time, then moved on. (Zhao could never catch up in time, and he was _continuously_ blaming the spirits for it.) None of these ports appeared to have anything in common. He didn't know what the _fat_, _bumbling fool_ was doing, but he wanted it to stop. His plans could not continue until the only threat to his throne was gone, and his son was no longer such a _nuisance_. He wrote a hasty, somewhat too honest reply to the Admiral, but then, there was no one here but him. The details and orders he stipulated in the missive were the exact reason he'd personally come to his office. He needed _no one_ to know what he said to Zhao, or the very loose terms he laid out for the man.

He left his rooms to irritate a messenger hawk to wakefulness. He never saw the shadow, nor how it got back out of his office. He never knew he'd had an audience to the crime he was asking another man to commit. Adults, after all, rarely look _up_. 

(This was, unfortunately, the _second_ mistake he'd made since Zuko's Agni Kai.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to sit down and ask myself where I wanted this to go, because I was invested in this Pretty Pony now. I have ideas and I'm not sure if that's good or bad yet.


	3. Redefined purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who has a rough idea for what's going to happen, I can honestly say I had no concept what I was doing to myself when I started this. 
> 
> EDIT: So I found a plothole and had to fix it. Zuko is now 12-thinks-he's-a-big-boi at the time of his banishment, and thirteen by the end of this chapter. There is a short extra scene added to the end of Chapter 2. It is very necessary for a side-plot.  
I came to the realization while reworking my plot that some elements of this AU are heavily inspired by the amazing MuffinLance. You should totally check out her work.

_The flames were lit with dim, impossible colors. They danced and swayed to music unheard, so fluid, Zuko swore they wove shapes. None of them reached for him with greedy, licking fingers. This was Zuko's first clue that this was a _dream_ and not a _nightmare_. _

_(Though it still might turn into the latter.)_

** _Please, take a seat._ **

_Zuko turned swiftly, a little awkwardly, because things were _fast_ and _bright_ in this dream. A figure sat stooped at a low table carved of soft-looking stone -and Zuko hadn't known till that moment that stone could look soft- and the (banished) prince had to force himself not to stumble back instead of forward. He'd perhaps been wrong about this not being a nightmare._

_The ... Something in front of him stooped over the table because his body was simply too long, and tall, and ill-proportioned (by human standards) to fit comfortably. It was a fine mesh of human-like limbs and distinctly inhuman claws and teeth and proportions and scales. Had he mentioned proportions? Because this creature _was_ oddly proportioned, and Zuko was a heart-beat away from 'oh my Agni it's neck is twisting in ways that hurt to watch, I knew I shouldn't have eaten dinner,' and 'kill it with fire!' _

_(The small thinking portion of Zuko's brain knew that trying to kill something that lives _in_ fire _with_ fire probably wouldn't work, but again. Proportions!)_

_Zuko hesitantly sat, both because he wasn't sure he wanted to make this nightmare worse by fighting it, and because there were cakes and steaming tea, and at this point in his banishment, Uncle had ingrained in him that these things were both a negotiation tactic, and a peace offering. _

_(It never escaped Zuko's notice that peace offering or no, everyone approached Uncle's tea with appropriate amounts of wariness. He could, after all, smite them with lightning if they were uncivil.)_

_The creature chuckled and huffed out amused breaths, watching him with a face that was both human in expression and ... Dragon in appearance? Its eyes were the most catching feature. It's left one was wide open, but it's right looked permanently closed- and looking into that burning left eye _hurt_. That eye was a tiny burning sun, lit from within by eerie golden light that _seared_._

_(Zuko wondered if this creature could smite with lightning.)_

** _Come now blessed one, be at ease. I only bite fools._ **

_(This did not make Zuko feel any safer. Nor did it solve the internal debate of 'do I give up and drink the tea,' or 'kill it with fire!')_

_He drank the tea. Zuko was many things, but he was trying not to be foolish lately. He mostly succeeded, except any time someone made the mistake of refusing his Uncle basic courtesy. The tea tasted like Uncle's favorite blend -Northern Jasmine and Ginseng, with a hint of some spice Zuko couldn't name- and the tea cake__, when he hesitantly took a bite of one, was _soft-crisp_ and tasted like cinnamon. He decided that there were worse ways for a potential nightmare to start._

** _Nothing to say? No questions?_ **

_The creature chuckled, taking a sip of its own tea by way of using one of its _whiskers_ to grab the cup from its claws and bring it _up, up, up_... Zuko only noticed that it was slightly blurry around the edges at that point, because he was trying not to _stare at its neck,_ so was looking at a point _over its head_. The blur looked a little like the waves of a heat-mirage, which lead to him wondering if perhaps the creature he was seeing was some kind of illusion or if the _dragon-man-beast_ was just generating that much _heat_. _

_Regardless, Uncle had ingrained in him the importance of both a running dialogue and letting the silence speak for you at the same time. Zuko was much better at the dialogue part (especially when he could shout his answers) than the silence part, so he figured he'd stick to what he knew._

_"Will you answer my questions?"_

_He pretended his quiet question was a shout and that his voice didn't crack or wobble and the creature let him._

_ **Of course. I am visiting because I wished to speak with you after all.**_

_Zuko ... He wasn't sure he wanted to know the story behind that but again -there were worse nightmares to have, and so far the only disturbing thing was the creature's neck. So. In for a zenny in for a pound._

_"Who are you? You said _visit_, would that make this a spirit vision? Or a spirit dream?" He just barely managed to refrain from asking about _why_ its neck was so ill-proportioned. He was proud of himself for that._

_The creature gave him a contemplating look, his great eye narrowing into a thoughtful sliver. Zuko tried not to act as nervous as he felt as _it-he-the creature_ took a slow slip of tea before responding._

** _This is a spirit dream. I try to avoid giving visions, if it can be helped. My children tend to misinterpret visions something awful._ **

_Here the creature paused to delicately pluck a cake from the plate, investigating the sweet between his claws absently, as if he'd never before seen it._

** _Dreams are more direct -and you, you will take what I say at face value. It's one of the many reasons you are my favorite child._ **

_That was more confusing than enlightening, and it must have shown on his face because the spirit -he had confirmed he was a spirit, and continuously calling him a creature felt _wrong_\- _laughed_. That laughter rippled the air around them in waves of rising and falling heat. Suspiciously familiar heat, a comfort that settled on his shoulders like a cloak. It tingled and burned along his skin, but in a way that he'd come to find _reassuring_. _

_(None of this calmed Zuko, because this warmth was something he'd associated with only one being his entire life. He did not want to think too closely about that.)_

** _Blessed child, I do love your honesty. It speaks without need for words -now, to business, shall we? You asked who I am -I will answer if you tell me who _you_ are in turn._ **

_That ... That was a question Zuko wasn't sure he could answer. There were days he thought he knew, but mostly ... Mostly Zuko was unsure. And since he highly suspected this spirit was _uncomfortably_ familiar with who he was, and what he was thinking, he settled for voicing his doubts here, where no one but he and _this spirit_ could hear._

_"I'm ...not sure. I know that I'm Zuko, banished Prince of the fire nation. I was the firstborn child of Ursa and Ozai. Cousin to Lu Ten. Nephew to General Iroh, the great Dragon of the West. Grandson to Azulon -great-grandson to Sozin. But those are things I was born to. Those are things I'm not technically allowed to claim." He wasn't sure when he'd drug his tea closer, when he'd slumped over the table. The heat around him shifted in comfort._

_(This was another _un_comfortable clue as to who this spirit was, but Zuko was ignoring it like his life depended on it.)_

_"I'm not sure who I am now, as just _Zuko_. I'm not sure who I want to be." _

_(Somehow, just saying those words was a kind of comfort in itself, like he was shedding that stupid armor he wore into every port. It was ...freeing to admit this to someone else. It was nice to have someone else know these things he'd been worrying over.)_

_The spirit nodded slowly, delicately picking up another cake (when had he eaten the first?) and twisting it around in his claws. Zuko appreciated that this spirit was clearly taking the time to respond, not just doling out blind comfort as Uncle might have. He lov- _ **appreciated** _ Uncle, but there were times the old general tended to be too comforting. Talking about emotion-fraught self-conflict was one of them._

_(Not that he would ever ask Uncle to change. It was nice to know that at least one member of his family cared enough about him to be gentle with his feelings. It was also nice to know that the care wasn't a facade for pity. Uncle would never make fun of him for his entirely justified range of emotions.) _

_ **What kind of man do you want to be?**_

_The question startled Zuko, who turned fully towards the spirit ... Just in time to see a long serpentine tongue flick out and back, disappearing the cake in a blink. He hadn't really needed to see that. He was having enough trouble with the _weird-twisty-neck-proportions_. The heat around them sort of nudged him, and he realized the spirit had asked him a question._

_(It was a welcome relief to think about the complicated, _made-his-heart-hurt_ question. It also gave him a legitimate reason to be so closely scrutinizing the teacup in his hands.)_

_"I want ...I want to be good. _Honorable_. I want to make the right choices, not just ones that _benefit me_. I've seen what making only those choices can do, and it ..." He found he couldn't find the right words to describe his father's calculating madness, or the gleam in the man's smile when he planned how to rip other people apart. _

_(The silence spoke for him, because the heat was back to being comforting without intruding on his thoughts.)_

_"I want to make a difference, and help put the real Fire Lord on the throne. Uncle will need all the loyal supports and help he can get, and I want to be _worthy of that_."_

_The spirit blinked slowly at him in a way that was purely **baffled**_ **.**

**Wait. What?**

_Zuko blinked at the spirit like a baby Owl Cat, unknowingly proving to this ageless, timeless being why he would be perfect for Fire Lord._

_"Uncle Iroh. He's _Agni's_ blessed chosen, the true voice of Agni and the Fire Nations heart. I want to help him get back his rightful place. I just don't know how to prove that it _is_ his place." _

_(If he said this like half an accusation, and half a question, he figured it seemed reasonably justifiable to be asking and demanding confirmation all at once. This was his dream after all.)_

_A silence broken only by the _crackle-pop-fizz_ of flames. The spirit seemed at a loss for words until he wasn't, carefully sipping his tea between clearly calculated breaths._

_**A most noble endeavor. I will uphold my end of the bargain now.** He straightened just subtlety, his neck stretch-twitching as it if wanted to uncurl but knew it couldn't. **I am Agni, King of Fire, he who watches and brings light and life. I have overseen your people since they were formed of my brothers' blood and flesh -as I will until the void breaks and devours all. **_

_(Zuko wished his suspicions had been wrong. It was one thing to worry that a spirit with _uncomfortably-familiar-magic-fire _was the God you'd worshiped your whole life. Quite another to have those suspicions confirmed right after blatantly voicing treasonous thoughts. He pretended he wasn't trembling.)_

** _Worry not, little Prince. I have never scorned you. Child, you asked how to prove that you are worthy to ...help your Uncle ascend the throne. I am here in part to answer that question; by way of giving you a special quest. _**

_(Zuko was both elated and petrified. He could count on one hand how many people in Fire Nation history had been given special tasks directly from Agni. Half of them he was pretty sure were lies.)_

_He straightened his shoulders and clenched his fists, and nodded, telling both Agni and himself he was ready. (While being entirely unsure if he was ready. He was still afraid of large fires for Agni's sake!)_

_The _Dragon-man-spirit-God_ looked distinctly amused._

_(Another, quieter part of his mind wondered if he should be swearing by a God he was in the presence of.)_

** _Go south child. My task for you will reveal itself there. Listen and observe all who come across your path, and do not be afraid to set aside differences to help another. When you feel angry or frustrated, remember, I am always with you. _ **

_The (banished) prince wondered how far into the future Agni's great eye saw, if he was speaking of things Zuko shouldn't be afraid to do. He was glad that so far, he had received no specific instructions. Zuko tended to mess up even the simplest of specific instructions._

**_Continue to love your nation and your people, but remember that their vision is skewed by the _fool_ who sits on the throne. What the fire nation believes to be right is sometimes _wrong_. Above all -and this is most important- do not be afraid to speak to your Uncle. I know words have not been your friend in the past, but I promise you, Iroh will never betray your confidence. He will keep you safe -as you will keep him safe._**

_(Some of those things sounded like they would need split-second good judgment, and now Zuko wasn't sure he was going to do very well at this task.)_

_"I'll ... Do my best Great Agni. I promise I will do my best." He was extremely proud that his voice didn't wobble or break._

_For a terrifying moment, he thought Agni was going to assure him that he _wouldn't fail_, but the spirit God merely nodded (which reminded Zuko again of the _neck-twistiness_) and then smiled in a surprisingly friendly-dangerous way. The flames were beginning to go out, and there was a fuzzy awareness in Zuko's mind, like he might be waking up. He was suddenly worried that all of this was simply a normal dream, one his mind had summoned because he so badly wanted to be thinking the right things and making the right plans._

** _Upon waking, go to the bow of your little ship, dear prince. I will give you a sign that this dream is real. _ **

_That ...was both a relief and a possibility for heartache. The flames closest to him were beginning to fade, and the table had gone fuzzy around the edges._

_**Oh, and Zuko?** Zuko looked away from the cakes disappearing one by one to Agni. The spirit God smiled again when he knew he had the boy's attention._

** _Happy Birthday._ **

** _________ **

Zuko woke with a start. His mind was racing and his heart _pounding_. There was someone knocking on his door. Zuko frantically tried to disentangle himself from the blanket wound around him, and fell out of his cot for the effort. Stupid limbs. Stupid blanket. 

"Nephew?" Iroh sounded alarmed, and Zuko hurried to reassure him, not wanting his Uncle to barge in and see him _struggling with the blanket on the floor._

"I'm fine! One moment!" He probably didn't have to shout, but it made him feel better as he jerked his legs free and hastily scrambled for the door. 

"Ah, good. Agni's eye has not yet risen, so I thought we could greet it together to _celebrate_!" Zuko swung his door open on that last word, and Iroh's cheer fell to worry. 

"Nephew are you alright? You look-"

Zuko wasn't sure he wanted to know how he looked, so he carefully squeezed past Uncle and ran for the deck. Uncle called out behind him, but Zuko kept going. He startled a couple of crewmen patrolling the deck, but he paid them no mind as he looked to Agni's just peeking eye. The familiar spark of his inner fire _twitched_ in a way it always did as Agni began to rise.

It was a feeling that said 'Agni is _awake_ and _burning_ and _alive_, and you should be too.' But this one was different. This was the Sunrise that rose on his first day of life (because the Fire Nation counted your first sunrise as the beginning of your day of birth) and it felt just subtlety different.

Uncle stepped up beside him and draped a heavy robe over his shoulders, humming in amusement as they watch Agni rise. By the time his great eye was a little over half-open, more crewmen had trickled on deck, and then-

(His heart had been starting to break, the slow realization that it had been a _normal_ dream crushing the baby hope in his mind.)

The light shining from Agni sharpened and _intensified_. It became a brilliant flare on the horizon, and then it began to _fracture_ and curl, forming an image made of Agni's light. A brilliant golden dragon rose in the still-dawn-pale sky and twisted around the ship. It was long and sinuous and slightly ill-proportioned, and it only had one eye, and when it smirked down on their ship, Zuko realized he recognized that face of fractured light. The dragon rolled over in the sky and twisted away from the ship, heading south, and it disappeared shortly after the last of it's long, ill-proportioned body drifted out of range of the ship. There was a heavy silence on the deck that let Zuko know he _wasn't_ crazy and they _had_ just seen that, and Uncle turned to look at him with wide, speculative eyes.

"Nephew." A quiet word when his Uncles voice usually boomed. Zuko made a strange, strangled sound he would deny ever making _forever_. "I do believe that Agni has chosen to gift you with a new heading for your birthday."

It was both the _most bizarre_ and _most wonderful_ thing he'd ever heard, but Zuko didn't say that. He still wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to speak to Uncle about everything, and he felt like declaring that _he'd_ had a spirit dream from Agni and been given a special quest maybe wasn't appropriate right that second. Not with the rest of the crew turning to look at the two princes on deck with quiet wonder. Later. He'd speak to Uncle about it later. 

(He only realized as Agni was setting and long after the Helmsman had corrected their course that _later_ never came. He wanted to regret this, but he was much too tired to. He'd spent most of the day getting to advance to the next set of Kata, and getting surprised by Cinnamon-spiced cake, and begrudgingly letting his Uncle drag him into participating with _Music Night_. It was the best birthday he'd ever had, because there were no boring parties where his father quietly terrified everyone with how cryptic he could be over his sons' ability to _survive the unexpected_ for another year. There were no baby sisters ambushing him with firey war games either. There was just _Uncle_ and his happy smiles, quietly informing Zuko that thirteen was a lucky number to be, and that he would surely be prosperous in his ventures this year.)

(He could admit, at least to himself, that he _missed_ Azulas surprise attacks because at least her seeking him out meant she cared. In her Azula way. Plus, at the end of every game, they'd play _sneaky games_ and steal extra cake and juice, and scale to the highest point and eat and relax where no one could see. She still tried to push him off the roof every time, but he'd come to expect that Azula sometimes didn't grasp that _people broke_, so he tried not to hold it against her. He wished she'd responded to his letters.)

* * *

Zhao was ...baffled. One minute, the princes' ship was on the horizon, the next it wasn't. One minute his prey was within his grasp, and the next, his helmsman was hesitantly informing him that they'd lost sight of the ship _again_. He was becoming increasingly frustrated by this, because his promotion to Commander _hinged_ on killing Iroh and apprehending the young prince. It felt like every time he advanced a few steps, something shoved his objective even further away, and no efforts he made to waylay that objective or distract it had worked thus far. 

Then of course, there was the constant spirit activity. The Fire Lord thought he was joking, or making excuses, but Zhao was intimately familiar with spirit tricks, and there were spirit tricks _in abundance_, dogging his every step. His men were swearing up and down that earlier that day, they'd seen a golden dragon form at the center of Agni's great eye, then drift away into the wind. These were the same men who'd been _screeching_ about monsters in the dark weeks before, when something had climbed on deck from the waves and tried to 'eat' one of them. There had never been any signs of a monster, with the exception of some unusual sliminess to the deck. Zhao wasn't sure how much he wanted to invest in their story of 'Agni's great spirit body, starting his trek over the sky by becoming one with it.' They hadn't been sleeping much since the monster attack after all. 

Zhao was thinking of having them quietly killed. This did wonders to substantially cheer his mood as he shouted orders to _find the Princes' heading and do it now_.

(Much later, he'll wonder why he, a man who did believe in spirits, hadn't paid better attention to the story. And also why he never remembered that enough heat, if used correctly, could form a mirage -_even over the ocean._)

* * *

There was an impossible, almost beautiful simplicity to traversing an area that was snow, snow, and more snow. _Ah, no. That was ice_. It was beautifully simple because Zuko had never seen so much _white_ in his entire life. It was impossible because _how-did-people-live-in-this-cold?_ Uncle had been teaching him new things, like how to use your inner flame to warm yourself impossibly. How to focus on stoking enough heat _constantly_ so that one didn't freeze. He taught Zuko these things mostly because Zuko had a bad habit of hanging over the ship's railing to watch the Koala Otters swimming, and he'd _maybe-kind-of_ fallen in a couple of times. 

(Dozen. _A couple of dozen_. Zuko usually learned things quickly, but when it came to Koala Otters, he'd found he had no self-control. He'd always _wanted_ a pet, but given the way Azula treated wild animals, he'd never wanted to risk giving her an easy target. He was realistic enough about his sister to know that no amount of explaining would ever be enough to convince her that you couldn't light an Eel Hound on fire and expect it _not_ to bite you.) 

"_Careful_ Nephew. I do believe that Captain Jee is tired of diving in after you." Uncles warning drew Zuko back onto the right side of the railing, and he huffed and grumped in his Uncles direction without much heat behind the action. How could he even _pretend_ to be grumpy when all he had to do was look to the icy inland and see a whole herd -_flock? gaggle?_\- of Koala Otters staring back? He made his way to where his uncle was seated non-the-less, tugging the blanket he'd left crumpled by the low table over his shoulders and carefully re-warming his tea. 

"_Nephew_." His Uncle spoke slowly, with much frustration and something that would have been disappointment on anyone else, but managed to be _exasperation_ on his Uncle. "Learning is a treasure without weight, that you may carry it easily. _It isn't meant to be thrown away_." 

Zuko should have known there would be _proverbs_ involved with that tone of voice, but he still managed to be disgusted unexpectedly. He scrunched his face up a little to show his displeasure but tried not to shout about how Uncle only ever spoke in _riddles_ Zuko didn't have the patience for.

"I'm not really sure what that means Uncle. Do you think Koala Otters _have_ to live in icy water?" He asked not shouted to distract the man from his proverbs.

(Not because he was thinking maybe one of the Koala Otter babies might want to come with him. Not at all for that reason. Azula wasn't here to light it on fire after all.)

He was also working on trying not to shout so much, especially since he'd finally told Uncle about all his doubts and why he didn't think any of them should ever go home again, and why he wanted to find a way to rescue Azula and-_everything_. He'd told Uncle everything. Uncle had been surprised at first, and then he'd just ..._accepted it_. Like he'd always intended to tell Zuko that what his father had done, what his father was doing to other people, _wasn't okay_. 

(His Uncle only had trouble with accepting that Zuko knew he was Agni's _chosen Fire Lord_, the one that really needed to be on the throne. It had taken Zuko quietly and earnestly assuring him that he would have Zuko's loyalty, _not_ because he was Agni's chosen, but because he was a _good man_. It had taken Zuko a year on the _Wani_ to realize that his Uncle was one of the _best men_.

Fire Lord Ozai only tried to convince people that he wasn't because he was desperate to retain power. Zuko had apologized for ever believing the horrible things his father had said about The Dragon of the West, and Iroh had laughed it off, stating that he knew his own truths. Uncle still gave him the occasional, _baffled_ look, and Zuko wondered why it was so strange that he'd figured out Iroh's real place in Agni's plans on his own.)

Now ...now they were near the South Pole, in the freezing cold and floating amongst the ice, because Agni had told them to come here so they had. The crew gripped about the cold, but more out of _justified bafflement that people lived in snow _because they all had snow-appropriate attire to keep them warm. 

(Zuko had to steal most of it from the nasty, creepy provisions officer that -for once- was not Fire Nation, just _corrupt Earth Kingdom noble_. He didn't feel as bad about stealing from the man because he'd kept giving Zuko weird looks, and he'd _overcharged_ them for the coats while short-changing them on how many he was willing to sell. He also didn't feel too bad about terrifying the man half to death as the Blue Spirit. Uncle had pretended not to notice all the coats they'd seen in the provisions office _unexpectedly_ show up in the _Wani's_ hold the morning after they left.)

(Zuko was getting good at sneaking and thieving, even better than when he and Azula practiced at the palace.)

"Nephew. A wise man does not seek to fulfill his own desires, but to quench the needs of the many." Uncle never did fall for his _no-proverbs-please-ploys_. He was devious like that. Zuko pretended not to understand that particular proverb, looking again to the shore full of Koala Otters. 

(Even though Uncle was right. The poor things were so furry, they probably did need the ice water to be comfortable. That was okay. Maybe, after his quest, he could come back and possibly pet one.)

"Drink your tea, Nephew. It's getting cold." Zuko sipped at his tea in response, warming the cup in his hands, thinking about all the names that would fit that fluffy ball of-

A quiet _shweek-boom_ and Zuko was on his feet, wary eyes scanning the deck before they landed on a beam of light in the distance, lit and reaching forwards the sky in a desperate line. If that wasn't a sign from Agni, he wasn't sure what was. They had a new course.

_ **Them** _

Katara had been steadfastly _ignoring_ her brothers' _sexist attitude_. _Had been_. Key phrase. His most recent string of '_leave it to a girl_,' punchlines had ground her patience down to nothing, and she was _done_. She'd been trying to be the _adult_ of the two of them, because at least she still had a role model to look up to. Gran-Gran may not have been _mom_, but she was something. Sokka didn't have anything but the much older men who could hardly remember their names. All the other _responsible_ adults that should have been helping to rear her _erratic_, _sometimes_ too smart for his _stupid head_ brother were gone. Had been gone for a while. _Might not be coming back gone_. Katara had stepped in to take care of the food, and cleaning, and general '_how do we stretch this food until the snowstorms stop_' worrying that adult women were supposed to be responsible for.

"You're _selfish_, and _sexist_, and I am not _putting up with you anymore_!" Katara was yelling now, because the fishing trip had gone horrible, and it was kind of her fault but mostly Sokka's. Even now, he was looking behind her instead of at her, blue eyes wide with worry, but she was wise to his ways at this point in her life. She stomped her foot and _flailed_ some more to show that she wasn't falling for his 'there's a Lion Seal behind you' tricks again.

"From now on_, you're on your own!_" A small pressure at the back of her mind and along her shoulders blades _sighed_, and a great big _crackle-snap_ echoed in the air. Katara turned because maybe there actually _was_ a Lion Seal, and something in the waters _pulsed_. She could feel it where she stood on the small raft of ice, feel it in her very being. The small iceberg that had been floating nearby was cracking in great big sweeping chunks, crumbling roughly into the waters, which sent their little raft swinging and had Sokka grabbing her down and _holding on_. 

"Your magic water gets weirder and weirder." He grumbled, glaring at the space where the iceberg had been floating. Katara spoke in between pounding heartbeats.

"_I did that?_" It looked like Sokka had something sarcastic and biting to say in response, but he mostly ended up _scowling at the water even more_. Katara followed his gaze to find that there was something glowing beneath them, that pulsing something there in her mind again. It pushed-pulled at her, and the waters lapped up and down and something rose. 

(Something also stayed. A small portion of her mind, the portion that was a bender and could feel the water no matter where it was, noted that their little raft of ice barely moved in the rising currents. It noted also that the great something push-pulling at her mind urged her to keep watching until there was a large, spherical iceberg bobbing in front of them and it was-)

Glowing. She could make out some kind of shape within the glow, and there was a chilling wind where there hadn't been before. It nudged and pushed until she reached for her brothers' club just as something flickered in the glow and she realized that it was a person. The flicker had been their eyes, open and wide, and white with power. 

"He's alive!" She shouted, grabbing the weapon and rushing forward. Blocks of ice rose to connect their small raft with the iceberg, and she didn't think about it then -

(But she would later. Much later, when the boy was huddling in their tent under a pile of furs.)

She just attacked the ice with as much force as possible, while Sokka tried to preach _caution_, saying things like 'Katara, get away from the magic glowing ice!' and 'Katara, stop, you don't know what that is!'

Except a small part of her knew that it was the answer to a lot of problems, or would be if she could just _break this ice open_. Then she did, and there was a concussive force and so much air released after so long being pressurized, and she wondered how anyone or anything could have been alive inside it. Then it wasn't a mystery, just a boy, one that looked weak and tired, and so very pale. 

(He was pale, but there was an undertone of warmth to his skin, a nice peachy-ness that was unexpected. Katara had only ever seen Fire Benders outside her own people, and they had been covered head to toe in armor and _terrifying_. This boy didn't look like a fire nation anything. Not when he wore blindingly bright cheerful yellows and oranges, and had a pale blue tattoo on his bald head. He looked like the opposite of an Ashmaker.)

Sokka tried to stop her bringing him home, but after his most recent string of comments, she chose to ignore him empirically. It was the only way to win an argument with him after all. Gran-Gran frowned when they came back with a shivering boy and not fish, frowned even more at the great beast that lumbered after them, then sighed and shook her head. 

"You two are _exactly_ like your parents." She'd muttered, and Katara knew that unless something drastic happened, Gran-Gran wouldn't be leaving the boy in the cold. Sokka complained loudly, but still helped her bundle the boy up, and then went looking for more food, because they had _extra mouths to feed_.

(He complained about not knowing what to feed the flurry monster sleeping outside their village, and about why he was expected to provide for a freeloader, and a dozen other things. But he still _did it_. Despite his failings, Sokka was a good brother.)

(Except that he was convinced by the end of the day that Aang was a fire nation spy -the Air Benders were _dead_ after all- and eventually, even Gran-Gran wasn't sure how good an idea it was to let a foreigner stay.)

______

Aang was turning out to be a good friend. Except that he successfully talked Katara into _breaking rules_, like the one that said they should stay away from the old, wrecked Fire Nation ship. But he got her out again, and then everyone was angry, because they hadn't even recovered from the _last_ Fire Nation attack on their shores and now - now the one person who _maybe-might_ be able to get Katara to a real water bender teacher was gone. There was no black snow, but there didn't need to be for there to be a quiet panic -and then a fire nation ship was _there_. _How_ could the Fire Nation respond so quickly to that old S.O.S signal? Did they just have patrols out on the waters? 

(Did that mean her father and his boat, _his crew_, had never made it to the war? Were they at the bottom of La's domain even now?) 

She watched her brother scramble for what he thought of as war, but what Katara knew would be suicide. She watched him brace himself on the wall, the only one among them that had undergone any combat training, and wait and -

The ship stopped twenty feet from their shore, at a slight angle, and something opened along the side before a small canoe was lowered to the water with what looked like only a few people on it. Katara was so damn _confused_ by this, she ended up on the wall with her brother, watching warily as the party came to shore then just ... _stopped_. Sokka looked ready to do something stupid like charge over there with his weapon drawn, but -

(They could have rammed the village wall, but they didn't. She'd seen what these ships could do, and it wasn't doing any of them. The Fire nation soldiers down there could be forcing their way into the village, but they weren't -the tiniest among them was pacing anxiously, looking up at the bleary sky every so often.)

She wondered if this was some kind of _trap_, and while the elders started _arguing_ about it Katara just ...slid down the wall, to her brothers alarmed squawking. She marched towards that tiny landing party with intent, and she wasn't exactly sure _what_ she was going to say when she got there, just that it was probably going to be _loud_. Sokka was right behind her, cursing quite so Gran-Gran wouldn't hear, and begging her to get back in the village. Only ...she never got the chance to be loud. The tiny soldier among them was actually a child -_did they force their children to fight?_\- one that was maybe no older than her and watched her approach with nervous twitching. When she got within ten feet of them he-

(She wasn't seeing this was she?)

He _bowed_. She'd never seen someone bow before, so formal and stiff, but weirdly respectful at the same time. The older, slightly round man with him followed suit, smiling calm and not-so-evilly. She wished he looked a little _eviler_. Her stunned silence in the face of this bowing had the benefit of shutting Sokka up, and giving her a moment to note that none of them wore helmets. None of them had those flame insignias on their chest-plates that screamed _fire nation_. None of them were being extra burny in the face of her abject astonishment. 

"We're sorry to trouble you, dear girl, but we saw the S.O.S flare, and wondered if everything was all right?"

The older gentleman finally announced, flashing another smile that boggled her mind, and before she could answer with the dozen things she wanted to say-

(I'm not alright. You people took my mother and all she did was protect me! _How can we be all right?_ Half our people are off fighting yours! _How dare you act like you've done nothing wrong!_)

Aang appeared. He appeared by jumping impossibly high and floating down to them, looking worried and frazzled and he was apologizing a hundred miles a minute and asking if everything (_if she_) was okay and-

"You're an _Air Bender_." The Fire Nation boy whispered just loud enough to catch attention, just when Katara remembered that the Fire Nation had killed all the Air Benders and she turned to finally say all the things she'd meant to but. _But_. 

This boy, no older than Aang, probably, looked even paler and like he might throw up, his eyes glued to Aangs robes and his staff and the arrow on his head, and then he looked so impossibly sad. 

"I thought- _everyone believed_ that the Air Benders were gone. _You_-" There was something in the boy's golden eyes that sparked and grew until it felt like she was seeing more than she should, like the frustration and hurt that was there on the surface wasn't something she'd been meant to see. The sun above them, previously shrouded by heavy cloud cover, broke. It became impossibly warm, and _impossibly more confusing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write and outline, the more I realize I'm just feeding my own desire. Shameless self-indulgence, that's what this is.  
Edit 2: I've had to change some of Agni's description, because after sketching it, somethings didn't quite fit.


	4. Confusion felt like nausea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter is going to give me such joy.
> 
> Edit: I RESPONDED to all those lovely comments when I was not at work, and if I missed one, please don't feel bad, that's my fault. I love and appreciate ya'll loving and appreciating this story.

Zuko had only a brief moment to contemplate the way his life had turned on its head and spun slightly to the left. One second, he was staring at the air bender boy that looked _too good_ to know what had become of his people -and trying not to hyperventilate, because _someone was going to have to tell him_, and it couldn't be Zuko because_ he shouted when he was stressed_. In the next instant, he could feel Agni break through the clouds behind him, and a push-pull pulse under his feet that didn't feel right, and then he was ...still staring at the Air Bender boy, and the water tribe girl who'd marched up to them (looking ready to spit fire and kick them into the water), but he was also listening to a lot of shouting. The water tribe girl was looking at something by his feet with surprise, and the air bender looked confused and expectant, his head twisting from side to side.

"Nephew!" This from Uncle, who sounded startled. 

"Katara! Aang!" This from the water tribe ... boy? The one whose face looked ridiculous, and whose weapon was tossed aside as he ... caught the water tribe girl's _body_. _What? _"What did you do to my sister?!" He continued shouting, in a voice that cracked even worse than Zuko's. 

"I assure you, young man, I do not know what is happening!" Zuko finally looked to see what his Uncle was doing -he'd been too afraid because he had a vague idea of what was going on- to find that yes, Uncle was carefully _cradling_ Zuko's body, with Lt. Jee twitching and flinching at the onslaught of water tribe people coming towards them in a way that said '_I was promised there would be no fuss and bother.' _Zuko turned his attention back to the water tribe girl who was (ineffectively) trying to catch her brother's attention, and the air bender who was ... trying to hop back into his body. (Also ineffectively.) 

**_Really, you'd think that a group of peoples so deeply connected to my sister would be more spiritually aware._**

Zuko would recognize that voice anywhere and was suddenly very determined to never look away from the Air Bender again.

(He might begrudgingly accept the neck, but he in no way wanted to look at it. _Agni chuckled_.)

The water tribe girl whirled towards the new voice and then stumbled back, screeching in surprise. Zuko felt for her. He'd had almost the exact same reaction -minus the screeching because Prince's don't screech, or at least, they learn to do so in their heads. The air bender had stopped hopping on his body to stare in mild horror-fascination, but he stepped forward instead of away. Zuko was trying to decide if that made the boy brave or socially unaware -who looked so ready to pounce on a spirit God?- and a comforting warmth settled on his shoulder blades. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and hesitantly spoke. (Over the water tribe girls quiet squeals of disgust.)

"This is Agni, great spirit God of fire, father of the fire nation. He lead me to these shores ...to find _you_." The air bender looked both cautiously curious and utterly perplexed before pointing at himself. 

"Me?" He asked, in a tone that Zuko was gratified to note was distinctly more breaky than his _and_ the water tribe boy. A light lit in the boy's eyes a second later, and he gently wrapped his knuckles against his head. "_Spirit_ God! Of course -but why would the _fire nations_ Spirit God want to speak with me?"

Zuko was trying to figure out a way to answer that when the water tribe girl came to sudden life. 

"_What. Is. Going. On!_" Zuko took a careful step away from her and towards Agni's warmth. Azula had taught him well what that tone of voice meant. He also wasn't sure how to answer, so he practiced Uncles' philosophy of letting the silence speak for him and hoped for the best. 

(He must have done it wrong though, because the girl just looked angrier. He took another cautious step towards Agni, who responded by wrapping him in warmth and taking over the conversation.)

_**Allow me to explain, young Katara.**_ The girl looked startled to hear her name come from Agni's mouth, and the air bender shuffled in a slightly guilty way. 

"Does this have anything to do with me being the Avatar?"

That. _That_ was probably something Zuko should have _guessed_, but it still froze him in place, and he wasn't sure he was actually breathing or forcing himself to go through the motions, but it was _very hard to do_ all the sudden.

Agni made a sound, and Zuko didn't know what kind of face he made, but the boy looked guilty all over again. 

_**Yes. Now have patience. My sister and her lover will be here shortly. We were going to wait until we were on the same horizon to call you forward, but I got ... Well, impatient**_. 

The wry amusement in his tone invited them to laugh. Zuko would have tried, if he hadn't been focused on the act of _breathing_. 

(It was hard to do because the Avatar wasn't dead twice -maybe thrice- over because of his people. It was hard because suddenly all he could hear in his _head_ was his father laughingly declaring that Zuko could return home only if he found and brought back the Avatar. The young Prince knew that his father had never said this directly to him, but after nearly a decade and a half of living with the man, he could _imagine it_. It was just as blood chilling in his imagination as it would have been in real life.)

Agni's patented warmth slipped over his tense shoulders like a cloak, and it wasn't a shoulder-touch from Uncle, or even a brief hug, but it managed to center his wildly panicking mind for a necessary second. The water tribe girl had been growling something while he'd been struggling to collect his thoughts, so he only caught the tail end of what had likely been a very angry speech.

"-trust a word some fire nation spirit has to say!" She finished, flailing her arms slightly -and just wildly enough that the air bender boy trying to calm her down ducked. If he'd been paying more attention, he would have noted that the boy who was her brother had been yelling a similar spiel at Uncle, but Zuko wasn't paying attention to the tribal boy or the antic of the people in the snow. He could suddenly and temporarily forget about his (_petty-ridiculous-why-couldn't-he-control-his-thoughts_) mental hangups, and come to vicious life in his Gods defense. 

"Hey! Watch your _tone_ when you speak to him!" He shouted. (Shouting was easy. It also required that he breathe.)

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" the water tribe girl shouted back, advancing a step. Zuko automatically took a step back in response.

Years of being ambushed by a very determined little sister made you instantly wary of the opposite sex. Before either of them could continue yelling (_or advancing threateningly_) that push-pull presence from earlier came back and the waters behind Zuko began to glow. He responded by taking several quick steps away, and to the right of the angry tribal girl. The air bender looked, at the very least, relieved that they were no longer shouting, but nervous all over again when the glowing water rippled and a figure began to emerge.

Zuko was beginning to think that spirits just liked to mess with human perceptions, especially when it came to _proportions_. 

(It was a partial truth. Agni and Tui were special because they had more interactions with humans than their counterparts Dabogong the brother of Earth and their Fujin cousins of Sky, who had never settled on one human name for long.)

Tui was tall. She was _super tall_, and stood upright in a weird way, and wore long silvery robes and furs that looked like starlight, and her _too tiny shoulders_ had a _huge _head with one large milky-pale eye. Her face looked like it belonged to a Striped Salamander Newt, and _she had one massive glowing eye_, and her hair wasn't hair so much as it was a set of long, swooping stalks with frills on either side of her head. Her scales ranged from pale-skies blue to pure silver, and Zuko felt that if her eye were fully open, she would see into his _soul_. Something else pulsed beneath the waters, but instead of rising, a great big something settled into the waters under their feet and started swimming slow circles around them _under the ice_.

(Zuko was grateful for that, because he was having enough trouble not looking at Agni, and now he had to avoid looking at Tui too. He was sure that as a spirit Goddess, she already knew his secrets, but he didn't want to willfully _give them up_.)

**_You didn't wait for me._** The new spirit admonished Agni, her voice whisper soft but echoing, sweet but biting. The stalks on either side of her head rose and twitched in irritation, and he assumed her eye narrowed, but he wasn't sure. (He was pretending, that much like Agni's neck, the eye didn't exist.) The water tribe girl was strangely quiet about this spirit, and when he checked, he found her struggling between awe and fascinated fear. Zuko wanted to reassure her that it was an entirely natural reaction, but he was still mad at her for her _tone_. 

_**I am sorry dear one. My intervention was required.** _Tui snorted at that, which Agni was clearly ignoring when he motioned in their direction. **_Now that you're here, to business. We don't have much time left._**

Both spirits turned to them, while a third swam slowly underfoot, and Zuko suddenly felt that he should probably be more _worried_ about being drug into the spirit world by two -_three_? Was La a participant in this, or simply along for the ride?- spirit _deities_. Of course, he'd never had the best self-preservation instincts, so he found nothing wrong with this picture.

______

Aang had time to consider _everything that was wrong with this picture_ while he watched with carefully controlled breaths as Tui rose out of the glowy waters. Tui was ... interestingly proportioned, but not the strangest spirit he'd ever caught sight of -that honor belonged to one he'd seen winging away from Gyatso's meditation room before it literally faded from existence- and her very large head wasn't as weird to him as Agni's neck was -_oh no he was twisting it again_. Agni's head twisted fully upside down while he spoke to his sister, and Aang _couldn't look away_ when it curled back upright and around to them, and then the young monk remembered that they were probably _really angry_ with him for disappearing for a _hundred years_. He clutched his staff a little tighter and shuffled his feet, and overall, tried to _not_ give into the urge to resume attempting to get back into his body.

**_Come now child, still yourself._** Tui whisper-shouted, her half-lidded eye turning in his general direction while her head-lobes shivered, and ...

"You're blind!" Aang shouted, because shouting surprising information was easier than apologizing in a long continuous stream, and he didn't think they'd appreciate him wasting their apparently limited time with that. Agni chuckled, and Tui laugh-whimpered, and it was Agni who responded. 

_**My sister sees only the waters of the world. The only time she looks fully at the realms is while we are facing each other. Now please, listen.**_ Aang snapped his mouth shut to keep from asking questions, and next to him, Katara did a full-body twitch, like she had a hundred more than him and even less patience, but Tui spoke before Katara could.

**_Katara, daughter of Kya and Hakoda. The last water bender of my Southern children. I can assure you, this is not a trick. It is not a trap, and the young Fire Heart standing next to you is not your enemy._ **Another _outraged_ twitch from Katara, and Tui was speaking right over it like she could see into the girls' _mind_. **_I know it is hard to believe, because of what his people took from you, but he only a boy -and you are only a girl. You cannot take upon yourself to spread life's misery and poison._ _I know you, dear one. You were born during one of my lovers' rages, and all that fury, all that power, and passion, was gifted to you. In this, you cannot let it drive you -the world needs the Avatar, and he cannot go alone. That is why we summoned you three here. _**

Agni took over, motioning to the _still arguing_ Sokka and the _was-smiling-but-is-now-chilling_ older guy that was cradling the fire nation boy's body like it was a treasure. Aang contemplated that, wondered if maybe the fire nation had _really_ become as bad as everyone said if some of them, _at least, _still held all the values he was familiar with. He'd seen _respect_ in the way they bowed to Katara and Sokka, had seen _worried-about-how-to-phrase-this-politely_ on the boy's face when he looked at Aang, and now, he was seeing protective instinct from the old _no-longer-smiling_ guy, and the one who somehow said a _hundred_ things without _saying anything_.

**_Look at both your peoples. Look at the way they snarl and prowl around each other. But neither of them attack. They are worried and have closed ranks. They are afraid, but taking a stand -even your young, little Water Weaver._** Aang looked. So did the two benders next to him, quietly, on the boy's part, with a small growl on Kataras. Aang watched the boy _scowl_ at himself in the older man _who-was-now-steaming_ as he denied poisoning the three children, and he watched Katara _shaking her head at Sokka._ **_There was a time this wasn't necessary. There was a time my people listened to me, and respected my sisters' tribes. There was a time her people welcomed mine. There was a time _that is now gone_, and you will help us get it back. The world is imbalanced, Avatar. It is time you stopped sleeping. We gift you this quest and these allies. _**

Before Aang could ask 'what quest,' Tui spoke, her robes twitching as she looked in Kataras' general direction. 

**_The Avatar must learn about this new time. He must see the world that is, to understand what must be done. Help him head North. You will both find teachers there -and answers to many questions. I look forward to seeing you when you arrive, dear one. _My brother's time is nearly done.** There was weightless sadness and dying joy in those last words. **_Young Fire Heart, you must accompany the Avatar on his mission. It is the only way to achieve your goals and answer your questions._**

Agni reached out and gently traced the outline of Tui's head with a gentle-looking clawed hand. Aang realized that it must be very hard, to have a sibling you only saw every once in a while, but clearly _loved_.

**_I will miss you till next we are turned towards each other. _**The dragon-man-his-neck-was-twisting-again whispered. The sun was nearly set now, and Agni looked the Fire bender boy with a soft smile. **_You are on the right path now. _**

The next time Aang blinked, he was in his _body_, and Koako was crying over him being 'dead,' while her grandmother tried to pull her away. That had been both _better than he expected_, and _answered nothing_, and he thought that maybe the rolling in his stomach was linked to his abject confusion.

"Katara! _You're alive!_ Thank Tui, I thought they'd poisoned y- _OW_!" Aang sat up to a startled exclamation from Koako just in time to see Katara slap her brother lightly on the head.

"Why were you actively insulting them! If they'd had half a notion to, they could have _destroyed our whole village_!" Sokka went to reply, but Katara was standing up and pushing past him, turning to face the fire Nation trio. The boy was shaking as he sat up, and there was steam everywhere as _suddenly-smiling-again_ old guy tried to warm him. This is when Aang realized he was freezing.

______

Katara turned toward the fire nation people, turned towards the people she _desperately_ wanted to hate, and forced herself to _really look at them_. Sokka and Gran-Grans questions were buzzing around in her ears, but she could only focus on the quiet conversation that Tui had held with her, _inside her mind_. That had been a shock to experience, _seeing_ all her secret thoughts and rages slip around in the open spaces of her mind, to feel _something else_-

(Something beautiful, and terrible. A push-pull in her mind that she was familiar with. It had followed her whole life. She was now wondering if it was something every water bender felt.)

Tui had told her that the Fire Nation didn't just take from other nations and peoples. It took from itself too. The Goddess had warned her that appearances and birth-places could be deceiving. She'd quietly referred to things no fire nation spy or trick could ever know about, because they were buried deep in Kataras' mind. It hadn't been enough to cool her anger _all the way_, but it had been a start, because now she was _looking_. She saw the way the boy flinched out of the man's arms, as if he was incredibly embarrassed to be caught being weak -or terribly afraid of being seen as anything but strong. She saw the way the older man looked both accepting and saddened, like it wasn't the first time the boy had refused comfort. She watched the man behind them stand guard like he would jump in front of these two men at any given moment and die to protect them _her people_.

"Aang and I were pulled into a Spirit Vision." She announced, and all the voices buzzing around her stopped. Spirit Visions were serious business for her people. Most of them came from La's playful children, or from minor spirits wandering the icy land. Gran Gran and her good friend Tomoka had the most, usually involving where to send certain people to fish, or what time the next day they should hunt. Now, people waited to see what Katara would say, and the old man hovering by the fire bender boy frowned slightly, his eyes flickering to his charge.

(She thought, distantly, that he might have called the boy Nephew at some point.)

"Aang, the fire nation boy, and I _shared_ a spirit vision." She corrected slowly, watching the boy watch her like she was some kind of dangerous animal he wasn't fond of. "We can trust them not to hurt us." She finished carefully. Sokka sputtered and huffed behind her, while Gran-Gran's warm hand landed on Kataras' shoulder and she was slowly turned to face the old woman. 

"Child, _who_ was your vision from that you would ask us to trust these _Ashmakers_?" She asked quietly. Katara knew as soon as her face began to twitch that her expression was mixed between wonder and terror, because that was exactly what she felt when she pictured Tui in her mind.

"Great Tui." She whisper-shouted back, reaching up to clutch her Gran-Grans arms. "Tui was _there_, and La was _below_, and they told me that we had to work with the Fire Hearts to help the Avatar." Gran-Gran took in whatever face Katara was making while Sokka increased his sputtering, and Aang shuffled in a nervous-guilty way, and finally, Gran-Gran turned to the Fire Nation trio with a deep frown. 

"I'm not sure I _like it_, but we are people who _trust_ our deities. You may make a camp a little further inland, and we will speak of this quest." The older man bowed at that, his smile large and warm, and then he motioned to a portion of icy landmass a respectful distance from the waters edge and their village. 

"Thank you, most honorable chieftess, for allowing us safe harbor on your shores. We will set up camp there. Is it alright if a few more of our people come to shore? No more than two, I give you my word." Katara and Gran-Gran both blinked at the given title, and Sokka _sputtered so hard his whole body flinched_, but her Gran-Gran slowly nodded, then motioned for Katara and Aang to head back to the village. She had to drag Sokka along by his boomerang harness. 

They watched a couple more people come to shore -from the safety of their village wall- on a skivvy packed with camping supplies, and Katara realized they had likely always intended to _ask_ for permission to make a camp. Those two extra people stayed, helping to set things up, and Katara found she was surprised by the way the boy was actively involved in that setup. She couldn't say why, but the way the others treated him had lead her to believe he was spoiled and pampered. Then he was hovering over a fire with a pot on it, doing something to it every so often, and she couldn't believe what she was seeing, but she was positive he had just _voluntarily made dinner_ for their small camp. It was at that point that Katara's brain decided she had taken in too much information for the day, and she went to bed. None of the interactions they'd had with these fire nation people matched what had come before. The way her gut twisted and ached was likely second-hand motion sickness from her mind's rampant confusion.

(Sokka didn't come to bed. He was convinced this was a dirty trick and stubbornly set himself up on the wall to watch the 'enemy' encampment. Katara found him asleep, slumped against a snowman that hadn't been there the night before and looked suspiciously like his idea of a person. It -remarkably enough- looked like Tui, but with _multiple_ eyes.)

(The next morning, they found Aang already in the Fire Nation camp, talking wildly at the fire nation boy, who looked uncomfortable and a little pale all over again. He looked at Aang like he was looking at his own nightmare and playing nice, like Aang was a phantom given human form. Eventually, Katara would find out what that look in his eyes meant.)

______

"The way my granddaughter tells it, the rest of your nation and that _fool_ you call Fire Lord have made your spirit God angry. What she did not know was why he suddenly decided to act, when he hasn't in a hundred years." Iroh watched the Southern Chieftess who _was not_ a Chieftess -but acted like one. She watched him back, smiling in a way that didn't fool him. He might have been a wild young man, but now he was a wise old man. That kind of smile on a woman was never a good sign. He fell back on what he knew.

"It is quite a long story. Let us have some tea, and I will tell you." He smiled his version of her smile, and they stared at each other politely until she slowly nodded. They sat in the large central tent they'd thrown up the night before, and the Chieftess waved the young women following her away. Iroh prepared the tea to silence. When he looked at her, she was quietly examing the multiple cots, carefully arranged around the fire pit, and the way one of them had more furs piled on it than the others.

(He would never tell his Nephew, but the boy had been plagued by nightmares the night before. Jee and the others had been startled by some of the vague things _shouted_, and Iroh, already knowing the stories behind most of them, told them _tales_ while he carefully laid his own furs over his Nephew and soothed at him. By the time Zuko was fitfully asleep, curled into a tight ball, the men who had voluntarily followed him into treason to get _away_ from war looked ready to pick up arms in his Nephews name. This was good. This was exactly what Iroh wanted.) 

"How is the boy? He looked ... well, _paler_, yesterday." The woman asked, and Iroh chuckled. He poured the tea while he spoke, because it kept his mind centered on his task.

"It would take more than a nap in the snow to keep my Nephew down." Iroh would know. He'd seen what it took to make that boy listless and unwilling to fight, and if it took him the rest of his life, he would make sure it never happened again. "He's quite alright. I think he had some notion of practicing his dao while we spoke, but then young Aang came over and started spinning tales about _Otter Penguin sledding_, and my Nephew lost all interest in _pretending_ to be an adult." He chuckled, handing off her tea properly and taking a long sip of his own. The soothing rush of warmth was a comfort, and the Chieftess across from him followed suit -and was clearly surprised that she enjoyed his fire nation tea.

"Now, let me tell you a tale." Getting this woman's approval was only necessary in that Agni and Tui wanted her granddaughter to travel with the Avatar, and the Avatar would be traveling with Zuko. He was a man absolutely invested in making sure his Nephew had as few obstacles as possible in his path. He told her the true history behind the Fire Nations rise to madness. It took a while.

______

"Zuko, I'd like you to meet Appa!" Aang declared behind him. Zuko turned away from the penguin otter he'd been petting expecting some other sort of arctic animal. What he got was a huge mountain of fluff with horns and the biggest, most soulful eyes he'd ever seen. 

It occurred to him that it only made sense that the boy would have a _flying bison_, because how else would he have gotten stuck in the south pole? This was, of course, after it occurred to him that Azula could never be allowed to look at Appa, because she might _set him on fire_, and with all that fur _he would never stop burning_. Zuko was determined this was never going to happen, and cautiously got up to let the boy introduce them. It mostly involved him getting _sniffed-huffed_ at and then ... getting licked by a tongue that was three times his size. It was gross on a level that also felt wonderful, and he was never speaking about it. 

"That ... what ..." Aang, unfortunately, seemed to understand, because he laughed and patted Zuko on the shoulder, then proceeded to cuddle the bison. Zuko would have quietly tried to get a pet in if he weren't flinging bison drool off his coat, and he huffed, and pretended to be angry, but was mostly pleased that he'd gotten the bisons approval. 

"Aang, there you are!" Zuko turned just in time to see the water tribe girl -Katara? Katra?- pausing midstep when she saw him. She laughed, but it was a short, unexpected thing, one she quickly covered up and politely pretended hadn't happened. "Gran-Gran wants us back in the village." Aang made complaining noises, and put up a small fight, trying to talk them both into another round of Penguin Sledding -and while Zuko would have been tempted, he knew that Iroh had intended to speak to the Chieftess. He dug in his heels and managed to _soft-shout_ Aang into heading back, with the girls' -_It was definitely Katara_\- assistance. After all, where the Avatar went, so did Zuko now. Agni and Tui had basically said as much.

When they got back to Kataras village, the skivvy was all packed, and Katara's people were waiting with Uncle. Aang and Katara paused, but Zuko kept walking, making a beeline for his uncle. The water tribe boy was standing by two packs, looking put out but determined. Aang stopped just in front of the group of people, Katara just next to him. 

"Gran-Gran?" Zuko pretended that those words didn't sound soft and a little small. They brought back a memory he had very purposefully buried. 

"I have been communing, and all signs point to now being the time. You, the Avatar, and young Zuko must go. Danger approaches, and we cannot afford for you to be here if it arrives." The girls' stance got a little firmer, and she looked ready to argue, but Iroh spoke first.

"Do not worry child. My ship and I intend to find the source of this danger and lead it away. I swear to you by my honor, I will do this."

Zuko didn't know how to feel about that, because it was suddenly very clear that he and Uncle would be parting ways, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Uncle smiled at him, carefully setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. 

"This is not goodbye. After all ..." His Uncle's smile brightened, and he chuckled and Uncle chuckle. "You'll be stopping on Beiku island, _to wait for me_." 

This was even more unexpected. It must have shown on his face because Uncle scoffed and gently traced a thumb over Zuko's scar.

(It had taken a while for Zuko to be comfortable with that, but it was Uncle, so he had worked on it until it was soothing, not terrifying.)

"You didn't think I would let a bunch of children run off with you, did you? This may be Agni's quest for you and the Avatar, but I am your _Uncle_. It's my job to watch over you." Zuko had dozens of questions about this turn of events, but a soft nudge between his shoulder blades had him nodding. Agni and Uncle would never lead him astray, and if they said this was a thing that must be done, he would make sure they did it. Uncle passed him a map, and a coin purse, and Zuko tucked both into his heavy coat. They didn't hug. Zuko was still getting used to the casual touches that brought no pain, and trying to sit still through a hug with an _audience_ was never going to happen. 

It turned out the tribal boy -Sokka- was coming with them because he refused to let his sister wander off on a spirit quest _alone_. This was so much like what Iroh had just said, Zuko took a moment to consider changing his opinion on this_ loud-mouthed-voice-cracking boy-who-thought-he-was-a-warrior_. Then the boy ruined it by turning suddenly toward Zuko and pointing in a way that would have been threatening on an adult. 

"And someone has to keep an eye on the _Ashmaker_!"

Zuko decided that this boy was everything he appeared to be, and in a _clearly justified move_, he let out a small, firey breath and a growl before he turned towards Appa and _jumped_ into the bison's saddle. The boy below squawked some more before Katara and Aang -who thought it was hilarious that Sokka had to _climb_ up where Zuko had just sprung straight into the saddle- managed to get the boy in and situated on _opposite ends_ of the saddle. 

(They didn't fly at first. The bison tried, but it either didn't feel like it, or was still adjusting to being awake, because it started to lazily swim away. Uncles ship eventually drifted out of sight, and an hour later, the bison surged into the air when Aang tried again. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and Zuko _loved it_.)

______

The prince was gone. Zhao spent a handful of minutes trying to get more information out of the clearly distressed formal general Iroh, but the man was more useless than he'd been lead to believe, screeching things about winged monsters that stole nephews. Zhao came to the realization that sea life had probably driven the old man insane, and he realized they would have to backtrack. Zuko had clearly run away, likely because his Uncle was an insane fool. He would need to go back and question every port form their current position, all the way to Gaoling. The banished Prince might already be in Earth Kingdom territory. 

_Ah_. But if he was in Earth Kingdom territory, the problem would just _solve itself_. Especially if someone were to submit a wanted poster for a runaway prince, with a high price on his head. The idea that the Earth Kingdom army would _accidentally_ take care of Zhao's biggest problem was such a _happy one_, he dismissed Iroh and headed back for his ship. He had a prince to find. Had he been paying more attention to the running tangent the old general was on, he would have realized that when the smaller Wani continued on, it did not head in the direction the crazy old general said it would.

Zhao's biggest problem was that he was so determined to chase Glory, he often missed the little things. This worked in Agni's favor when he sent his helpers to plague the man's ship with illusions and mirages. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Casually going about my day, in a hurry because I was RESEARCHING *cough*rewatching-book-one*cough* late and so, was up late for school. Only checks Ao3 once to see if I posted what I was working on for ch.4  
All you lovely people: Do the thing.  
Me: Checks Ao3 after I get home and is bLeSseD with all those beautiful comments.
> 
> You guys. You guys are great. I'm so happy you like my writing, and that ya'll get the feels.


	5. Home is where the heart breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one that I've been dreading because emotionally potent pieces are hard to edit when it all feels necessary.

They'd been camped on the south-western banks of Beiku for several days. This was several days of Zuko being left alone with other children, one of whom was actively trying his best to _antagonize_ the former prince at every turn. Katara was slightly less hostile, but not by much -and Zuko got the feeling he was being studied every time they spoke. He had, to his surprise, endeared himself to her when he'd willingly made dinner _before_ she could the first day. She'd gotten a strange look on her face, hesitantly took a bite, and finished the congee without complaint. 

(Her brother had complained about the lack of meat, at which point Zuko had pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the waters edge and invited him to go fishing and roast it himself. Congee, fried rice, and roasted vegetables were the only things he knew how to make.)

Now they were on day three, and Sokka was complaining about his fried rice, and trying to make Zuko feel bad for knowing how to cook, even though he was a boy. (Zuko wasn't sure how being a boy and cooking were related, but he was sure the tribal idiot would eventually explain.) Zuko missed his _ship_, because if they were on his ship, one of the old sailors would just take the older boy's food and ration it out, which would be fair. You didn't complain about food you didn't have to make.

(He knew how to cook because he went to Zui -the head Cook- when he needed answers to _serious_ questions -Uncles track record for _real-responses-not-proverbs_ was stacked against him- and the cook made him work while they spoke. If he tried, he could probably figure out other, simple dishes, but he didn't feel like trying. Not for _Sokka_.)

"Sokka, for the _last damn time_, I'm not going _fishing_ for you. If you want fish in the evening meal, _fish for it with your own damn hands, and make it yourself_." Sokka gave him the same look he'd given him every time Zuko suggested he make his own meal, and Aang blinked at him with a slightly nervous twitch of his fingers as he ate. "_What_?" Former Prine Zuko, who was now in charge of evening meals, and understood all of Zui's griping, growled at the air nomad. The boy shifted a little with his response. 

"You curse a lot." Zuko blinked at the nomad, and was given just enough time to contemplate that yes, from a twelve-year-old _monk's_ perspective, he probably did cuss a lot. Not nearly as much as some of the helmsmen did, or even Zui, but frequently enough.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked quietly, instead of telling the boy that there were people that cussed more than him. He probably would have shouted the question with a growl for effect, to maintain his (nonexistent) reputation. He'd been shouting a lot today, and he _missed his ship_, and frankly, the idea of not cussing made him weirdly sad. 

(The oldest naval officers laughingly taught him new curse words when Uncle was out of earshot. They thought it was great fun to teach a former prince how to be _inappropriate_. They also gave him a slew of inappropriate _sailor stories_ he could probably only share with Sokka, since he wasn't half as _sunshine-nice_ as Aang, and therefore, Zuko wouldn't feel bad when he destroyed the other boy's innocence.)

Aang shook his head slowly, fiddling with his spoon. 

"No, no, it's not that! I don't really mind except when you squish them all together while shouting -but being honest, it looked like it _really hurt_ when you got hit by the tail end of that rockslide- so it's okay. I was just wondering where you learned them all. You seem so ..." Here he seemed at a loss for words, and waved his hand in a slightly flailing manner. Zuko settled back and rolled his shoulders, because even the memory of getting pelted by all those stupid rocks hurt and he was weirdly relieved that Aang didn't want him to stop cursing.

"Formal!" Katara piped up, supplying Aang with apparently the exact word he needed, if the goofy look the kid shot her was anything to go by.

Zuko shrugged, letting Katara take his bowl from him. She's volunteered to do clean up if he cooked, and he got the feeling she was possibly getting more out of the agreement than him, since clean up consisted of '_watch me shove all these things into a bucket of water_.' 

"I lived on the _Wani_ for the last year or so. No, a year and three months." He corrected, absently counting down the months to Azula's birthday. He had been a mid-winter birth, but Azula had been born just before spring. Aang leaned forward eagerly after giving up his dish, almost bouncing in place. 

"What's it like living on a ship? _Why_ are you living on a ship? Is Uncle Iroh your only family or something?" The last two questions were a kick to the gut, one he hadn't been expecting. He went to answer, then stopped, his face twisting up before he could stop it. Instead of addressing _all_ of the Avatars' questions, he focused on the one that didn't make him want to puke. 

"Living on the Wani is -_was_ ... nice, I guess. I li-_tolerated_ it, even though saltwater gets into _everything_. The Wani has a good crew too, even the ones that didn't really know what they were doing. I liked waking up in one port then traveling to another. I liked seeing all the people," _even if they didn't like seeing me_, he thought but didn't say. It would likely start a rant from Sokka, and the boy was _finally_ down to muttering under breath while he set up his bedroll. It had been a long three days, but the consistent thing Zuko had picked up on was that as soon as Sokka ate the evening meal, he was ready to sleep. If Zuko started serving dinner slightly earlier in an effort to speed this process up, who was to blame him?

Aang kept _staring_ at him after that, a mixture of _concern_ and _expectancy_, and Zuko felt his shoulders tense. The Avatar could keep waiting. Zuko wouldn't share the rest with him -just because Zuko was here and helping him, _did not_ mean he trusted the eccentric boy. _Especially_ not with the reasons behind his life at sea and _who his family was_. He could just imagine the second-hand disparagement he'd receive from Sokka if the older boy knew _Ozai_ was his father.

(He could imagine the Water Tribe boy saying things like '_Of course the Fire Lords son is a shouty jerk_,' or '_It's hardly surprising that you're the son of ultimate evil. I knew the moment I looked into your shift little eyes!_' After spending three days having slightly similar but really different insults slung at him, Zuko was very positive that these were _accurate_ insult estimates. He isn't exactly wrong.)

"What about your uncle?" Katara said slowly, clearly trying to help, but really _not_ helping with her next question. "Does he have any children?"

Zuko thought of the portrait that Uncle kept face down on his desk. He thought of the anniversary of Lu Ten's death, when he'd quietly sat at his Uncles side and held the older man's hand. He thought of the _pain-joy-hurt_ in his Uncles voice when he quietly told Zuko stories about how his son had been on the way to being a fine man. He thought about how good his cousin had been to him when he'd been _around_ and _alive_, and he knew his cousin dying was _also_ not something he was going to share with these strangers.

(He wonders if Lu Ten would have ended up as Agni's chosen, if Iroh had died before claiming the throne. This seems reasonable to him, and he worried about who Agni's chosen would be now. Maybe, if Zuko ever got married and had children, one of them would be good enough. It was a pity he didn't have more cousins, but probably also a good thing. It was a good thing, because in the very back of his mind, he thought his father was probably responsible for Lu Ten dying. To be fair to Sokka, most bad things in life could very reasonably be blamed on the current Fire Lord.)

It must have shown on his face that he was done sharing, because Aang launched into a story about Elephant Koi, and how _very easy_ they were to ride on. Zuko let him tell the story, and there was no more shouting, but a lot of disbelieving huffs. It was about as _not-awkward_ as Zuko could make things around himself. Zuko fell asleep curled into a sleeping roll on the opposite side of the fire from Sokka, listening to Aang and Katara quietly swap stories about weird animal-encounters. His last thought was of the _Wani_, and how very hard it was to sleep on a surface that didn't rock with each powerful wave.

(He dreamed, not for the first time that week, of flames colored an angry, roaring red. They reached for him with greedy, hungry fingers. He couldn't move away because he was rooted to the spot by tiny _bald_ children. Those children were begging him to keep them safe. Zuko could do nothing when the flames reached them -nothing except burn up right alongside them, screaming in terror.)

Zuko woke with a start, to see a hand _reaching for his face_. He _screamed_ -then he reacted, gripping one of his dao (laid beside him for exactly this reason) firmly and swinging with the flat of the blade. The hand got knocked away, and Zuko tensed on his feet when he heard the voice that accompanied it. 

"By La's might, _that hurt_! _What is wrong with you_?" Zuko blinked at Sokka and tried to get his breathing back under control. The Water Tribe boy was looking at him like ... well, Zuko actually wasn't sure. He'd never seen _that_ kind of look before. It might have been concern, or maybe disappointment -but there was a weird twist to it, a subtext Zuko didn't understand. He fell back on Uncles belief of letting silence speak, and focused on not _shaking_ as he put the single Dao he'd drawn back. Katara and Aang were awake -he could feel them watching him- but he refused to look their way. His biggest concern needed to be breathing.

(He really hoped that he hadn't been screaming in his sleep.)

"Why'd you wake me up?" He asked, slipping the Dao's sheath on, then carefully folding his bed-stuffs back up. He did all of this while perfectly conveying '_I don't want to talk about anything that just happened, someone shut Sokka up._' He could feel a prickle on his skin that said Agni would soon be rising, but it was unusual for any of the three to be up before him. Sokka started to say something, but Katara tossed her rolled sleeping bag at him and pointed wordlessly to Appa. The boy glared at his sister, glared at Zuko, glared at the sky, then finally, turned and marched towards Appa. 

"You're Uncles ship is out there. Aang wants to go meet them so that they don't have to circle the island looking for our camp." Zuko paused in tying up his stuff to stand and look out to sea. If he tilted his head at the right angle, his good eye caught on something that might have been the _Wani_. 

"Any of you have a spyglass?" He asked, without any real hope. The two Water Tribesmen shrugged, though Sokka looked suspiciously interested, and Aang scratched his head and smiled. 

"It's probably better if we wait until they're in closer range. The _Wani_ isn't the only Fire Nation ship in these waters." Aang started pouting -something about how staying on the ground was terrible- while Sokka grumped and crossed his arms and glared some more in Zuko's direction. Katara looked distinctly amused when she crossed her arms.

"Funny, Sokka was complaining about that just before ... _we woke you up_." She hesitated on the last few words, a flash of concern on her face. Zuko pretended not to see it, and continued shoving together the small pack he had. He was wondering if maybe he'd be able to go to his room and get his Blue Spirit gear without anyone _noticing_.

It was nearly afternoon before the ship was close enough Zuko was willing to go along with Aang's impatience, and he's never been more grateful in his life to see his dingy little ship. Crew members on deck froze when they saw the bison, and then did double-takes when they saw him on it's back. They began smiling in relief and waving. His hair was plenty long enough that he wasn't sure if he actually saw any of this, or if it's what he _thought_ he saw. Uncle came running onto deck by the time they landed, looking slightly startled but extremely relieved.

"Nephew! I see that you're well." Uncle greeted. Zuko slipped off the bison at the same time Aang did and was startled when _he_ stumbled slightly.

Stupid land legs. Stupid Airbenders never having a problem with balance or gravity. Uncle was chuckling over some of Aang's questions, and inviting everyone to _tea_, and Zuko very determinedly hefted his pack and started for his room. Uncle was still laughing behind him when the door to the deck shut. He ran into a few crew members who were startled to see him, then relieved, and weirdly, _had no questions_. By the time he made it to his room, he realized that everyone was well aware of the _abundance_ of treason the two former princes were committing and fully supportive of it. He didn't know how to feel about that. His room was untouched when he entered, and the first thing he did was pull the Blue Spirit ensemble out of the chest by his bed. He didn't grab any more clothes -he intended to find some Earth Kingdom robes to wear instead. What he did grab was a series of scrolls Uncle had asked him to study, because something told him they would come in handy. 

"So this is your evil lair!" Sokka declared behind him. Zuko jumped, then pretended it had _never happened_ and glared at Sokka appropriately over his shoulder. He did this while shoving a couple of meditation candles into his bag, and another set of maps he'd _appropriated_ before they headed south. These ones depicted Fire Nation outposts and trading routes. They were perfect for telling the Avatar exactly where he _shouldn't go_. 

"My people call it a room," he responded, without as much heat as he would have liked. "We keep our evil lairs below deck." He laid the _bait_ and waited a second, then turned. Sokka was, predictably, _not there_. Zuko should feel bad about what he'd just done, but really, it was what the Water Tribe boy got for his _attitude_. 

(It hadn't been a lie. The enginers were the evilest, most terrifying people that Zuko knew, but for entirely different reasons than Sokka was thinking.) 

When he was sure he was _actually_ alone, he opened a hidden drawer in his wardrobe and found the small portrait of him, Azula and their mother. He'd burned their father out of it months ago -it gave him too many bad dreams to accidentally catch sight of his father- so it would be mostly safe to bring with him. He snapped the wooden portrait box closed and wrapped it in a shirt, then left his room. He didn't look back. As soon as he had Uncle, he would have everything he needed for the next chapter of his life. 

(But he did stop by Zui's 'office,' and quietly say goodbye. The man responded by giving him a bundle of rations and a small scroll of quick, simple meal recipes because 'you cannot live off of _congee_ alone, you need to eat _properly_,' and Zuko let the wirey man hug him, but not for long. Katara was surprised and grateful when he presented the bundle of rations to her, and when Sokka was carried onto the deck by the head engineer, Zuko chuckled quietly while Katara apologized and Uncle and Aang tried to peace-keep. Sokka would speak to him when they climbed back into Appa's saddle. It was the best present.)

(Having everything he needed didn't mean he _wouldn't_ miss the _Wani_ -just that there would be nothing left on it to remind him _why_ he was doing what he was.)

______

"You want to stop _where_?" Zuko asked, for probably the third time, blinking stupidly at the Airbender. 

"My _home_, the Southern Air Temple! You guys will _love it_! It's the most _beautiful_ place in the whole world!" Aang pepped, urging Appa to go faster.

Katara was sitting just next to him on Appa's wide head, and Zuko sat at the front of the bisons' saddle. Uncle had a hand very firmly on the rim of the saddle, his smile forced as he looked at the back of Aang's head. Sokka was sitting on the other side of Uncle, because if the two boys had access to each other, they would _argue_. 

"You must remember, young Avatar, going forwards sometimes requires us to let go of the past. Expectations and reality do not always share the same bed." Zuko groaned softly, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the rim of the saddle. Uncle chuckled at him, while Aang replied. 

"I know things will have changed! I don't expect them not to, I just want to see for myself!" The Avatar chirped, smiling at the old man over his bright yellow shoulder. Katara leaned forward, a serious frown on her face. 

"Aang, you know that no one has seen your people for a _hundred years_." She reminded softly. "It's possible the only thing you're going back to is a bunch of _empty buildings_."

_They won't be empty._ He wanted to warn. _There will be bodies,_ he nearly shouted,_ littered like forgotten shoes -both your countrymen and mine._ Zuko thought all this but didn't _say_. Uncle didn't either. 

"You don't _understand_ Katara," The boy said, a wavering smile on his face, and Zuko saw desperation in his eyes. "The Fire Nation _can't_ have gotten to the air temples. You need a _bison_ to get up that high, and there's no way they had those, right bud?" He finished while ruffling Appa's furry head, his fingers twitching in the fur in a way that looked like self-reassurance. 

"There are some that need to _court misery_ to learn," Iroh said softly, and Zuko didn't complain about the words that were almost a proverb. "All we can do is be there when he finds it." Sokka looked like he might throw out something about the evils of the fire nation, but Uncle turned and _smiled_ at him, and the boy snapped his mouth shut. Zuko wasn't quite sure what it was, but Uncle's smiles seemed to _completely disarm_ the other boy.

The rest of the ride was quick ascension and _steep-rocks-everywhere_ and it was almost like boy and bison were doing everything they could to _terrify their passengers_. The saw the air temple. It was beautiful, and just as impossible as the Western one had been, and Zuko felt a growing pit in his stomach as they approached. 

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this?" He ended up asking, leaning into the bisons' wild turn as it decided where it wanted to land on a wide platform.

Aang was all beaming smiles that spoke for themselves, and the faint hint of disbelief as he looked at the empty skies around them. He lead them up an incline towards the main series of temples, and Zuko was putting a lot of effort into _controlling his breathing_ as they approached. Aang was suitably sad at the lack of upkeep and lived-ness, and right when Zuko would have turned and _begged_ the others to just drag the boy back to the bison, the Water tribe boy asked Aang to teach him a game. Zuko stood off to the side with Uncle, not quite on the path but close enough to it that he saw the water tribe siblings find an old Fire Nation helmet. he watched the boy glare at them, and Katara cover up the evidence as Aang approached. 

After that, the Airbender was smiles and excitement again as he proceeded onwards. Zuko agreed with Sokka about needing to let Aang know, but he couldn't make himself speak any more than Aang let them talk him into leaving. The young nomad lead the others into the main temple, and Zuko split off quietly, trying to think like an adult pacifist trying to protect a bunch of children. He could hear slightly clumsy footfalls behind him, and knew that Sokka was following, but he ignored it in favor of continuing with his self-imposed mission. He reached a relatively non-descript looking hall and proceded down. Sokka caught up. 

"Ashmaker. What are you _hiding_?" He demanded, stopping Zuko in the hall simply by walking in front of him. Since Zuko had no desire to fight this particular battle, he sighed. 

"I'm not hiding anything, _Water Tribe_. I said we should go. And you shouldn't let your sister keep _protecting_ Aang." Sokka blinked at that, looked at Zuko like he'd been expecting something else, and when he didn't immediately start insulting him, Zuko slowly pushed a door open -it was narrow, heavy, likely some kind of metal- and found exactly what he was afraid he might. Sokka turned to peek into the room, then froze, his face going slack in a mixture of _horror-anger_, and Zuko slipped past him. Much like the Western temple, the bones of the children were scattered behind the bones of their guardian. Zuko absolutely believed the nomad of old was dead long before his charges were.

Zuko crouched in front of the guardian's body, bowing low as he whispered prayers. He hadn't been in the state of mind to do this for the children of the Western temple, but he _would_ do it here. Above all else, he hoped their stay int the spirit world had been _happy_ before their rebirth. He hoped whatever life they were in now, it was a _good one_. He hoped that even if it had hurt, they had _quick deaths_, because there was nothing more painful than _burning_. Sokka stays with him until Zuko finds another room of children, and he _doesn't_ stay through that series pf prayers. That's okay. Zuko had intended to do this alone from the start. At some point, there was a sound like crumbling stone, and Zuko had enough presence of mind to wonder if something had collapsed finally. 

______

He isn't sure when Zuko, Iroh, and Sokka leave the group, but he notes that when Sokka comes back, he looks ... pale. Like he'd seen something he wished he hadn't. Aang doesn't pay too much attention to it because he's determined to open the air temple doors. Even if there isn't anyone waiting in there for him, maybe they left some sort of clue as to what he needed to know. He's slightly disappointed to find statues set up all in a weird row, but _intrigued_ by the idea of this being his room full of _past lives_. He's wondering how much Iroh and Zuko know about Roku when the lemur finds them. Sokka comes to life for a minute, and they argue over terminology, (Pet or food) and then he chases it and then-

(There is a ring of fire nation soldiers, long dead and reaching for something at the far wall. There are bodies piled on top of bodies in thick, concentric circles.)

The Fire Nation soldiers of old are skeletons in too-big armor now. 

(_The secret is the soft jelly middle, young one._)

The thing they were reaching for is old and decrepit now. But it didn't use to be. 

(_Your aim is improving with every lesson, my boy._)

It wears orange and looks like it died when someone fired a precision shot of flames through his heart. 

(_They should have waited until you were sixteen._)

The snow around it reflects light and makes the death look peaceful, but Aang knows there was nothing peaceful about this. 

(_We need you Aang._)

** _The corpse wears Gyatso's necklace._ **

He cries, and he thinks, and eventually, he is filled with _rage-despair-guilt_. He goes to a place inside his head where he never ran away from the other elders trying to separate him from _everything_ when he was already trying to learn how to deal. He goes to a place in his head where he stood next to his master and didn't abandon him to flames and forces and death. He thinks of all the things he could do the people that had destroyed everything. Only. It's been a hundred years. The ones directly responsible are long dead. He can hear Katara shouting something at him, and he realizes that he's lost control. But what did that matter when everyone he'd loved had been _ripped away by his own stupidity? If he'd only been there, if he'd just stayed then maybe-_

"Aang, please, calm down!" Katara.

He realized he wasn't the only one on this mountain. 

"Aang come on!" Sokka, sounding desperate. 

He should stop now. _He just didn't know how_. 

"You have to remember that _you aren't alone_ Aang. Please. _Let us help you with this_." 

He _wasn't alone_, was he? He'd been _spirit blessed_ in companions. Maybe Tui and La had seen this coming and realized that Aang would need people. Maybe Agni hadn't been so far off either, but at this _exact moment_, he wasn't feeling too happy with the Fire Nation, so he focused on Katara and Sokka, and eventually, he felt his feet hit the ground. Then his knees. Then him. He was crying again. Gyatso still sat exactly where he'd been. Time would continue marching _forever_, and Gyatso might just stay there. Aang decided that his old master had deserved the nap; look at all the Fire benders he'd had to kill. That had to have been _exhausting_. 

Aang cried _harder_. He apologized through the tears and cried some more, only to start apologizing again, and he wasn't sure who he was apologizing _to_ anymore. Katara and Sokka manage to calm him down with _totally required cuddles_ and _soothing sounds_, and when he could breathe without crying all over again, Sokka cautiously approached Gyatso and so carefully took his necklace. Aang wants to tell him not to, but he also really wants it, so he says nothing out of _confliction_ and 'thank you,' out of _habit_ when Sokka hands him the medallion. 

It weighs _nothing_ and _everything_ in his hands, and feels like _home_. He manages not to start crying again, and Katara and Sokka lead him back towards the temples.

(They find Zuko, with Iroh quietly watching, praying in front of a group of children's bones, and Aang cries all over again. He isn't sure when he moved, but he was crouching by Zuko and hugging him, because he might be Frie Nation, but Aang had seen the shine of tears in the boy's good eyes as he straightened and went to bow again. Aang hadn't known until that moment that Zuko showing respect and compassion for long-dead corpses would be his selling point.)

The Lemur comes back, and adopts him, petting at his head soothingly when he starts sniffling. Someone else takes over handling Appa. He thinks it's Zuko, who'd gotten flustered and weirdly embarrassed, and tried to refuse more hugs, but didn't the instant Aang would start tearing up. Iroh was sitting close to him at the back of the saddle. They watched the Southern Temple become a distant, shrouded memory, and Aang made sure to be quiet when he spoke.

"Zuko is a good person, under all the gruff." He started, and Iroh smiled sadly and nodded. "Someone hurt him." Another sad smile and nod. "He's here because of that." Iroh gave him a contemplating look, then spoke just as quietly. 

"I'm not sure why he is here, but I can say, it is not a light decision. He is not here just because someone hurt him. He is here because wise men go searching for knowledge. My nephew is looking for his own truths." Aang thought about that for a while. He thought about that, and about Gyatso, and about this world he was unfamiliar with. It looked the same, and some of the people hadn't changed, but some had. 

(One thing that hadn't was that there were good and bad people in _every nation_, and Iroh and Zuko were good Fire Benders.)

If he had any hope of bringing peace to his peoples' memory, he had much to learn about this world.

* * *

His son's ship was gone. It hadn't been seen in any port, and the last missive that Zhao sent him suggested that his idiot brother had finally gone senile and gotten everyone on his ship killed in a storm or drug down by a Kraken. The only problem with this unexpected turn of events was that his useless son had apparently been in the wind before that. Ozai wasn't sure where the boy was, or what he was doing, but he was positive that it wasn't anything productive. Leopard wolves don't change their spots after all. 

A maid entered with his lunch, shoulders hunched and left just as quickly as she'd come. That was a definite improvement on her previous performance. He'd have to congratulate the Head Mistress later for that. He deplored sloppy servants almost as much as he hated his son. Which begged the question -did he let Zhao handle any possibility that his son was alive ... or hire someone more competent? Ozai put that thought -and his subsequent list of options- aside for later. He'd make his decision by the end of the day. First and foremost, he had to decide what to do about the Fire Sages. They'd closed their ranks, and subsequently, their influence. 

The little people were getting antsy about Agni, and Ozai could get _nothing_ from the sages. He was running out of plausible reasons for the everyday benders to be losing their abilities _in the heart_ _of their nation_. He didn't know what kind of game the spirits were playing, but he intended to win it. To start ...He needed to kill High Sage Shiza.


	6. Kyoshi's legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually sorry in advance.  
EDIT: Thank you Sokka, I needed you to take over this entire chapter. That's super helpful. Now I have to fix things!

Aang was all over the place. Like, _really_ all over the place. He fluttered from one point on the saddle to the other, and it may have only been a _day and a half_ since they left the Nomads former home behind, but they clearly needed to address the Avatars _angst_. Momo was trying, but there was only so much that _lemur cuddles_ and _consolatory pats_ could do. Sokka was just the man to _help_ him too. _He was very helpful_.

(He could almost hear Katara snorting at him for that. So what if he didn't _cook_, or _tidy the camp_ when he _fidgeted_? Stupid _Zuko_ with his stupid _cool scar_ and his stupid _fluffy hair_, and his stupid _cool swords_. Why did a Firebender need swords? Not important. _They were stupid!_)

_So_, he cleared his throat and spoke _loudly_ over the wind -and Zuko, quietly asking his Uncle about the _necessity of proverbs._

(Sokka had _also_ been wondering that, but this was _more important_.)

"Aang, where are we going?" He asked, because the key to being _helpful_ was being _discreet _about it. Aang tensed where he currently sat on Appa's head, in front of Katara. There was the slightest of _guilty_ hunches to his shoulders, then he seemed to snap himself out of more angsting to turn fully to Sokka.

"I was thinking maybe we could stop and ride the Elephant koi? _If that's okay!_"

Were it not for the nightmares Sokka knew the kid had the night before, and how very _twitchy_ he was, Sokka would have complained about stopping again. They'd only _just_ started their journey North! They were stopping _every time_ they got into the air! As it was. _Nightmares_.

(This was _plural_, because stupid Zuko had _also_ had some night terrors, but where Aang had quietly cried and woken with a pale start each time his started, Zuko quietly _begged_ his way through his, as if he simply couldn't escape on his own. Sokka wanted this to be stupid too, _but it wasn't_.)

"Sure, that's fine." He groused fully, wondering why the adult with them wasn't taking over, except _Fire Nation_, "just remember we should probably _keep moving_ after that, at least until nightfall." They had no _real_ reason to avoid staying in one place too long, but Sokka preferred to ere on the side of caution. Caution had saved his hide _plenty_ of times. Like the Tiger Whale Incident _that-shall-never-be-mentioned_.

Aang brightened considerably, spinning into a _running monologue_ about how he and his friends used to surf on elephant koi all the time during the hottest summer days. Sokka patted himself on the back in a '_job well done, I'm good at adulting_,' and promptly _smugged_ in Zuko's direction. Iroh chuckled and Zuko glared in confusion -this seemed consistent with their dynamic, never mind Sokka had known them literally less than a week- and all was right with the world. Katara did that sister thing she did where she half-listened, half didn't, going through an assortment of what Sokka called '_girl chores_.'(but never where she could hear) Currently, she was sorting through a pile of mending, one that included Sokka's only other pair of pants.

"Katara, _check it out_!" Aang exclaimed, and this time, it was his usual excited exclamation and not one fueled by his own _nervous energy_ trying to distract him. He was making two marbles spin wildly between his palms, and Sokka would have labeled it as a nice trick to distract children if nothing else.

(Absently, he noted that Zuko looked _perplexed_ by the boy's trick as if he couldn't fathom why anyone would use their bending in such a way. Having seen some of the practice steps the boy had done when he thought no one was around in the early morning, Sokka contemplated that, of course, an _Ashmaker_ wouldn't understand using bending for party-tricks.)

"That's great Aang," Katara said absently, having pulled Sokka's pants out of the mending pile. Aang frowned at her over the rim of the saddle, his shoulders drooping in a sulk. At least this kind of sulk was preferable to '_I'm remembering the horrible way my father figure died, why is my life like this._'

(Sokka remembered in a flash of irritating clarity that Zuko had a _similar-but-very-different-look_ to Aang's _father-figure-is-dead_ expression on his face as he prayed for those _massacred children_ his nation had been responsible for _murdering_.)

"You didn't even _look_." The boy complained mildly. _Welcome to my world_, Sokka grumbled internally, and Katara predictably looked up and smiled that _sister-smile_ at the kid.

(This made Zuko flinch, and Iroh gently patted at his shoulder. Sokka hated that he noticed the way the boy looked _terrified_ and _seriously depressed_ all at once.)

"That's great!" Katara exclaimed. Aang frowned at her, leaning forward on the saddle.

"But I'm not _doing it_." Aang had very clearly not been around too many girls -_or sisters_\- so Sokka stepped in. _To be helpful_.

"Leave her alone Air Head. _Girls_ need _space_ when they do their _sewing_." Aang gave him a weird look, Katara stopped sewing to _scowl_ at him, and Zuko shifted enough in the saddle that he could make eye contact with Sokka over his Uncles round form.

"Why are those things related?" The fire nation boy was giving him the same look he'd given Aang's party trick. Sokka couldn't believe he had to explain this, but then, Zuko and Iroh didn't seem very manly (Zuko's hair was _so fluffy_, and Iroh was only interested in _making tea_ and _spitting proverbs_, and what manly man did that?) so maybe they really didn't know.

"Alright, it's _simple_. Girls are better at things like _mending pants_ and _socks_ and _cooking_ and _cleaning_. Guys are better at _hunting_ and _fighting_ and ..._stuff like that_. It's the _natural order of things_." Iroh was giving him the same look now too, and Katara's scowl _darkened_ even more, before she suddenly flashed him a _sister-smile_ and tossed the pants at him with the _needle still attached_.

"Look at _that_, I'm all done! Don't they look _beautiful_!" Sokka was aghast at this, as she was _clearly not done_, but Iroh spoke before he could take a page out of Zuko's book and _shout something appropriate_.

"You must remember that what is _given_ to you feeds your body, but what you _give to others_ feeds your soul. All men in the fire nation know this."

That didn't make any sense, but Zuko was nodding along like it was perfect English and Katara was staring at Iroh consideringly. Before he could ask '_what does that even mean_,' or shout, '_I can't wear these!_' Aang gave an excited whoop.

"Where we're going, you won't _need_ your pants _anyway_ Sokka!"

(He wanted to shout that _needing pants didn't work like_ that, but Katara was looking at him now, and he realized he _maybe-probably_ shouldn't risk saying anything else. He'd already made her mad once today. His pants weren't going to sew themselves.)

They were on the beach a short while later, Aang bouncing on his feet in excitement, and somehow managing to strip at the same time. Even if it was _too much energy_, at least the nomad had vigor now. He'd take _that_ over moping. Katara huffed past him, and he realized he'd have to really apologize (for the truth!) before she'd finish sewing his spare pants. (Which he needed. The laundry sack was starting to smell, and he wasn't going to walk around _without pants_ while she did it the next time they stopped.)

There was snow on the ground, and the trees -_trees_! nature that wasn't _totally frozen!_\- were bare. Aang was bouncing on his feet now, shivering and keenly observing the ocean critically. Momo watched the waters too, hopping encouragingly, if with _minor confusion_, while his human chittered excitedly. Sokka knew the waters would be freezing, so he had no intention of getting in them. He was smart like that. Katara seemed to feel the same, because she was frowning at the nomad like he maybe needed to take a nap and calm down. Then a fish bigger than _two Appas_ jumped out of the ocean. Aang got even more excited and charged towards the edge of the water.

(Sokka had no idea why Aang was excited. If he wanted to jump into _icy water_ and play with _humongous monsters_, they could have stayed in the _South Pole_.)

But there he went, jumping into freezing waters and rushing towards _probable death_ with excitement. Zuko was pacing just off to the side of Sokka's vision, his wild golden eyes scanning the frozen woods. Iroh had taken a seat just behind them all, humming softly under his breath, and chuckling every so often. (Mostly when Aang, riding on the giant _monstrosity_ that would feed Sokka's people for half a year, came out of the water laughing his crazy bald head off. Sokka wanted to sit down and ask the old man what was so funny, but then he'd be taking _active interest_ in a Fire Bender, and he still wasn't sold on them, so he _resisted_. Remembering why he _really_ hated Zuko and Iroh -No, Katara, not _just_ because they were Firebenders, and _no I won't tell you_\- helped in that resistance.)

"He's doing well out there," Katara noted, smiling softly at the insane child, and Sokka gave her an askew look.

"The fish is doing all the work. He'd be doing good if he could get it on land. Can you imagine how much _smoked jerky_ we could get off that thing?" Katara rolled her eyes at him, then turned when there was a distinct _Appa-crunch_ behind them. She growled softly, went to wrangle the nomad's bison, and overall, Sokka stood and alternated between watching Aang (who was insane) ride the giant fish, and watching Zuko (who looked strangely disappointed to not be out there) pace as if his life depended on it. The only reason he realized there was something wrong was because Iroh stood and let out a wordless shout. His eyes were on the water, so Sokka looked too.

There was an _even bigger_ shadow under the waves, a brief flash of something that broke through and followed the fish wherever they swam. Zuko growled, and all three of them generally _shouted warnings_, but Aang either didn't notice or didn't care until he was thrown into the water. Zuko made a move, like he would have dove in and gone after the nomad, but Iroh caught his tunic and _held_. Katara was drawn by their noise, and also started shouting, and really, _none_ of that helped Aang move any faster over the water -_how was he doing that? Air Bending or subconscious Water Bending?_\- until suddenly he was-

(Sokka swore he saw _stars_. Or at the very least, a vaguely horrific, one-eyed fish woman frowning at him in blind disapproval, but that didn't make any sense, so he stuck to the idea of stars.)

He was on his back, with a frozen Air Nomad on top of him, panting and laughing, and looking _slightly freaked out_. Katara was there to pull Aang up, offering him his clothing with a side dish of worried questions. Sokka took another second to try and breathe -_Ow, his lungs_. It felt like Aang had a _head of steel_\- and Iroh was gently offering his hand, while Zuko ... Zuko looked both relieved, and like he was hiding a laugh behind his hand, his face turned away from them all.

After Aang was dressed and Sokka was on his feet -he'd accepted _reluctant _help from Iroh, because no matter how he tried, the man's smile made him _stupidly trusting_ and weirdly desperate to _earn approval_\- after Zuko was back to _softly shouting_, they talked about leaving.

Then they got ambushed and it was too fast to keep track of, and Zuko was _shouting more_. Iroh was making vague, soothing sounds at his Nephew, likely trying to get him to stop doing whatever he was doing. (Probably fighting back. Sokka had never met someone _not him_ so willing to fight everyone. Zuko took the cake and won every prize, because everything was either a glaring competition or a shouting match. Both of these were things he won, because of the _scar_ and Zuko's sheer ability to increase his volume _willfully_. Sokka hates that he didn't have time to fight back, because now it feels like he has something to _prove_.)

He's in the middle of composing a _literary masterpiece_ of _bargains_ and _threats_ when the blindfolds were removed. They try to tell him that girls -_girls_!- are the warriors who snuck up on them and ambushed them and made him look like a fool in front of _Iroh and Zuko_-

(He isn't sure why that's important. He doesn't want to think about it too hard or he thinks about Zuko's ability to look cool even when he wasn't bending, or the way he sometimes touched his scar and went _paler_, or the way he had nightmares a lot but Iroh quietly _smiled_ them all into _pretending_ he didn't. If he thought about it too hard, he thought about the few bouts of humor that Zuko displayed and Sokka liked, or the way that Iroh chuckling at him in approval made his heart hurt _weirdly_.)

It was easy to talk brave at first, to point out the _clear facts of life_ -A bunch of _girls_ could never take them down- and then Katara found the need to talk over him and-

"How do we know you aren't _Fire Nation spies_! Kyoshi has stayed out of the war _so far_, we won't be drug into it _now_!" Their headman accused. They couldn't very well _refute_ that some of them weren't Fire Nation, and Sokka was trying to figure out a way to say this that didn't sound like '_we brought spies to your village, sorry not sorry_.'

"Your island is named Kyoshi?" Aang asked excitedly. This excitement slotted in nicely to Sokka's newest _plan-for-getting-them-out-of-ropes_.

(Though even the small inkling of a plan he was building was quickly destroyed by the fact that, oh yeah, _Iroh and Zuko screamed Fire Nation spies!_)

"These two are Fire Nation!" Someone outside his line of sight shouted. Aang started making peace-talk noises, and they were being accused of being a _whole group_ of Fire Nation spies -and Sokka took _exception_ to that!

"_Hey_! I am not some _Ashmaker_! I'm just _traveling with them_ because the Avatar got a _Spirit visit_ that said we had to! Though I suppose a bunch of girls wouldn't know anything about _epic, life-changing spirit quests!_" This caused no small amount of confusion -and a lot of anger- as Aang increased his peace-talk efforts, and Zuko growled and shouted, while Iroh joined Aang's peace-talk efforts, and Katara for some reason, was _also growling_, but she was growling things like '_Aang, just do some air bending_,' and '_Why don't you two just fire bend us free._' Which was sacrilegious as far as Sokka was concerned.

"I am sure, if we all just sit down for some _tea_, we can discuss this like reasonable people. Like the _white lotus_ blooms for all to see, we come with no _dishonor_, our colors are worn upon our sleeves." Sokka understood half of that, and even that _soft-spoken-and-confusing-sagely-wisdom_ voice that Iroh possessed didn't seem to fool anyone.

"I _swear_, I really am the avatar!" Aang promised.

"The last Avatar was an Airbender that _disappeared_!" One of the girls exclaimed, stepping forward threateningly. Their Headman finally scoffed.

"They're _clearly lying_. Prepare to _sacrifice_ the prisoners to the Unagi!"

Sokka increased his vocal disagreement at being anything close to Fire Nation when the day got substantially warmer in a short amount of time, and Zuko roared something like-

_"Don't you touch my Uncle!"_

(Katara was _kicking his feet_ for some reason, what did he do _this time?_)

"_**Enough!**_" Aang shouted. The winds picked up speed, and the day got even warmer, then the ropes were loosening, and Aang was floating above them, while the sun was incredibly bright. The people around them _froze_, their expressions slowly going slack. Aang twisted and did _something_, and the few ropes still tangled around Sokka and Katara's legs were shredded, and Zuko had _increased his growling_.

"I _am_ the Avatar, and I _swear to you_, these people mean you no harm." That didn't stop the dirty looks, but they at least weren't trying to tie everyone back up. "If you let us explain, I'm sure you'll understand." _More_ dirty looks were thrown -_most_ of them at Zuko and Iroh, which Sokka understood, but a _fair amount_ were thrown at him, which he _didn't_ understand- but they were none-the-less lead to the central hall.

(In Sokka's _expert opinion_, this was _primarily_ because Aang could look _terrifying_ when he wanted to, and floating ten feet off the ground and using magic air to slice things counted as terrifying. Not that he looked terrifying _right now_. Right now, he was all smiles and bouncing steps, and he was _very glad_ to have his staff back because he gave the _girl-playing-dress-up_ the biggest _smile_ when she handed it to him.)

Explaining took a _long time_, and at some point, the girls drug Iroh and Zuko into rooms by _themselves_ for questioning. Aang hovered nervously outside those doors, clearly worried, while Sokka _didn't mope_, he was just _strategizing_, _shut up Katara._ Eventually, they were either _satisfied_ or _perplexed_ by whatever the Firebenders told them, because they were released. Zuko looked slightly more furious, but also _weirdly terrified_, and Iroh looked entirely amused, and neither of these was a good sign for how the night would go.

(He was right. Zuko shouted _more_ than usual, and Iroh somehow ended up in charge of _tea_, and he handed it out like they would all _die_ if he didn't, and the quiet plotting Sokka could see in the old man's eyes didn't do anything for his nerves. It also impressed the secret parts of his mind that were _awed_ by this old guy's ability to _terrify without trying_.)

Sokka went to sleep grumbling about _warrior girls_ and dreamed dreams where he was _clearly-the-better-fighter_.

______

Zuko woke _before_ the sun had fully risen, and quietly slipped from the rooms they'd been given. The guards they'd posted at the door eyed him like he was a Cobra Cat _waiting to strike_, but he paid them no mind as he found a relatively clear area to practice in, just beyond the doors and facing the mountains. He started his morning exercises in smudged, grey darkness, and completed it under the gentle rays of Agni's just peeking eye, carefully keeping his movements _fire-free_. Uncle had already started tea by the time Zuko came back, and Katara and Aang were awake. Sokka was still sleeping in the small room beyond. He was _muttering_ something -had been all night- and Zuko let Uncle talk him into tea and breakfast.

"I'm going to go find their training hall," Zuko announced quietly. Aang gave him and Uncle a worried look, but Zuko waved it away. "I'll be careful. Of course, if we aren't back by _nightfall_, you might want to make sure we haven't been fed to anything." It was we because he could already see Uncle setting aside his teacup. It was somehow a given at this point in life that Uncle really didn't intend to let him wander anywhere alone. He hoped that if he needed to be the Blue Spirit, he could safely sneak away. Aang laughed nervously at what he kept muttering was 'a good joke,' when Zuko hadn't been joking. Iroh stood with him, and lead the way out of the guest rooms, humming slightly to himself as they went.

(The song was familiar, one Iroh'd taken to humming in the last couple days -ever since the Southern Temple.)

The guards on the Avatars' rooms broke away and followed. He expected as much.

Iroh spent a bit of time wandering around their market, letting the people fleece him of more money than their wares were worth. He picked up Earth Kingdom clothing in soft, dark greens and browns, and a couple of conical hats. Zuko had known it would be coming, but it was still odd to realize that by the end of the day, he likely wouldn't be wearing Fire Nation colors. He was strangely alright with that -it wasn't _disloyal_ because _his_ Fire Lord was the man picking the clothes.

"You are quiet this morning Nephew," Uncle said softly, inquiring without asking. Zuko thought about that, and how he could answer without shouting -he'd been practicing at _not shoutin_g for a while, but he'd increased his efforts with Aang because the kid looked disheartened by _any_ shouting. It was like looking at the face of a kicked Koala Otter, and Zuko hated it.

"We were so easily detained yesterday -and I know it's because we didn't bend but ...how are we- how am I- supposed to be useful to the Avatar if I have to rely on bending every time I'm in trouble?" Iroh slowed his steps, and Zuko shortened his in response.

"Only by looking past your reflection can you see the effect you have on the world."

Zuko gave his Uncle an appropriate scowl, then quickened his pace, marching forward. Uncle laughed behind him, and no matter how much Zuko liked hearing that sound, he had a point to make about _proverbs_. When he found the Kyoshi Warriors -he knew this was their name and this was their training hall because he had very keen hearing and very attuned sneaking skills- training dojo, he paused in the doorway, watching them move.

They were quick, sure-footed, graceful -and deadly. Sokka had a lot of things to learn, and a healthy fear of girls was one of them. They'd disarmed and manhandled him yesterday like it was nothing, and he wanted to _know-how_. They noticed him as one and paused, a few took defensive stances, but when he did nothing but observe respectfully from the doorway, one of them -the one that had spoken like the Headman's equal yesterday- spoke.

"Going to _stand there_ all day, or will you be getting around to why _you're here_?" She snipped. Zuko bowed, not low enough to dishonor himself, but enough to show respect for her position as _clearly-the-head-warrior_. She didn't exactly react to this, but he noticed the subtle shift back, as if she hadn't expected formality.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if we could spar." He managed to not shout any of this, and was impressed with himself. It helped when he counted his breaths while he spoke.

The girls stared at him, then shared a look, and he was made appropriately wary. They shared another look, and then the one who'd spoken stepped forward.

"Well, seeing as how you asked so _nice_, I guess I could kick your butt _again_."

Zuko felt his lips twitch alarmingly and resisted the urge to shout to cover it up. He would not shout at these kinds of girls that could put him on the floor and make it _hurt_.

(Zuko liked her. She reminded him a little of Azula in a weird way, only not as distant and with more social and empathic awareness.)

"You honor me." He responded instead, even and not shouty, and stepped into the room. Predictably, he was on the floor in no time, but it didn't hurt as much as it could have. Also predictably, he stood and asked for _more_. He still couldn't figure out how her feet did that thing.

"Aren't you embarrassed to be beaten up by a _girl_?" She asked after the seventh -no,eighth-time, but it wasn't mocking, and Zuko gave her the same look he'd given Sokka when he'd said similarly stupid things yesterday. Were Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom girls just not scary or something? He had a hard time believing that.

"I have a _little sister._" He admitted with equal parts affection and terror. The warrior blinked at him in confusion, and he decided to elaborate. (He liked this warrior. She was very straightforward and her footwork was tricky.)

"Fire nation culture dictates that as long as you can _do_ a job, you can _have_ a job, no matter your gender. My sister expanded on this by proving that little or not, she could and would make me cry when she felt like it. You being a girl has nothing to do with you being a _warrior_."

The girls exchanged another look, this one more multilayered and complex, and since he hadn't understood the first one, he was never deciphering this one. They sparred for a little bit longer, until Suki -she'd given her name in _between throwing him at the walls and tossing him to the floor_\- asked him what exactly he wanted to achieve by doggedly sparing with her.

(Her fellow warriors had been buzzing to know, he could tell. Azula had also taught him to decipher '_we will gossip about this quietly in front of you,_' body language. Though maybe mostly Ty Lee had taught him that one.)

"... I wanna know how you do it." He gruffed, because it was slightly embarrassing to admit he couldn't figure it out. At her questioning look and superb use of silence, he growled his follow up answer.

"The _thing_ you do with _your feet_! I can't figure out if it's a thirty-degree turn to the left of your center, or if you're just _sliding_ it."

Uncle chuckled from his place by the door, where he sat with his back braced against the frame and his face turned towards the wilderness. Zuko was surprised he hadn't magically found some tea yet. 

"Honest men catch less fish but more trade." He chimed, sounding amused and approving. Zuko took a bracing breath and had to work on not shouting. Proverbs were, if nothing else, a good gauge for his ability to speak normally. Suki started laughing, low at first and a little unexpected, and the other girls followed suit.

Well. Allow us to teach you then." The offer was also unpredicted, but the resulting lesson was done with vigor and lots of varied ways to be flipped to the ground. It was actually a very nice start to his day.

* * *

"_Have you heard?_"

Kei looked up from his fishing basket at the sound of an _excited little voice_ to find a girl bouncing in front of him. He chuckled to himself, thinking that she'd possibly learned all her letters, or gotten a new sibling, and had been sharing with everyone. (He had several daughters. He knew how children worked.) What she said next left him flabbergasted him.

"The _Avatar_ is on Kyoshi!" She exclaimed and pointed. At first, he thought maybe she was just the mischievous type, but when he followed her finger, he was treated to an impossible sight.

A boy, wearing bright yellows and deep oranges, _floated_ -jumped without falling?-from a balcony to a tree, rustled around in it for a bit, and then _floated-didn't-fall_ to the ground in front of a crying girl. He handed her something -a doll, perhaps- and then turned to give a soft, smiling lecture to a group of boys. These boys watched him in awe, and the adults around him did the same. The girl who'd happily done her duties and shared bounced off to find her next victim.

He left Kyoshi with a _mind-boggled_ headache, and _a great story to tell_.

(Much later, one of those stories was to a slightly less reputable buyer, who notably didn't care who he sold his fish to. This was perhaps a mistake.

It was. That fish monger went on to tell the tale to a cook from a fire nation vessel, who hurried to report it to his _Commander_. Zhao had promised extra pay and privileges to the man that brought him interesting news. He thought this counted. It did. Unfortunately, Agni wasn't paying a lot of attention at this time- or he might have caught what came next.)

"Set course for Kyoshi. Rumor or not, this is the kind of thing we can't allow. The world will know there is a price to pay for harboring fantasies of long-dead myths."

_And, if he was lucky, the Prince would be there, sniffing around for any chance to go home honorably._

He didn't notice that for the first time in a long time, he had no trouble getting from where he'd been to where he wanted to be. This was because the minor spirits watching him had only been told to misdirect him if he talked about _Zuko or Iroh_. The Avatar had never come up, so they thought nothing of letting Zhao sail off. This was another minor oversight, but then, even deities weren't without some flaws.

* * *

When Sokka walked into the training hall, he did so _loudly_. Zuko was sitting inside the doors with Uncle, having let the warriors convince him to _sit down you're wobbling_. He didn't know what they were talking about, but Uncle made enough disapproving noises that he resentfully sat down next to the old man _and his twin_. He didn't remember having two Uncle Iroh's, so maybe everyone had a point about how many times he'd bumped his head. Then suddenly there was tea, and another old man -_real_ this time, because everyone greeted him- walked in with a Pai Sho table, and Zuko was even more begrudgingly watching them play.

(All things considered, he was glad for Sokka's loud and skewed opinon on women to distract him, no matter how much he wanted to lock the other boy in a room with Azula because of it.)

"Sorry to interrupt your _dance lesson_ ladies. I was looking for somewhere to do a little _workout_."

Suki looked not at all surprised by the other boy's words when she propped her fists on her hips. Zuko wasn't either, but he was going to enjoy the show. It was even better than he'd hoped -everything he needed after a week of constant badgering from the older boy _just because_ he was born Fire Nation.

(Being honest, Zuko couldn't really blame him for the badgering. But he did _resent_ it. He didn't ask to be born to Ozai. Being the Fire Lords' son was his greatest shame, but this was something he never intended to say.)

Suki apologized for the day before (and in this, he could tell she mostly meant it) then, with the _fakest sincerity_ Zuko had ever heard, buttered Sokka's ego until he was ridiculously easy to goad. Had Sokka thought twice about all those giggles, he would have surely seen the secret evils there.

(He didn't understand how someone with a sister couldn't to begin with.)

He laughed when Sokka ended up on the floor way more creatively -tied up by his own belt! Zuko would remember that one- than the former Prince had up to that point. His laughter seemed to startle the other boy. Sokka went from _pained-confusion-awe_ to _embarrassed fury_ very quickly, but Zuko couldn't find he regretted it any. He also wasn't sure where the fury was directed and preemptively scowled harder, just in case.

"You think this is sooo funny? I'd like to see you do better!" Zuko opened his mouth to point out that it was only _natural_ neither of them had lasted very long; first, because _girls were terrifying_; second, these were _warriors_ that had been able to _practically apply_ all their combat training.

(He didn't count his escapades as the Blue Spirit as combat, because that was only ever _highly advanced sneaking_ and _ankle slashing_, and that didn't count.)

Suki cut in before he could say any of this, _grinning_ from ear to ear.

"_Oh, he did_. He lasted a full minute longer than you did, and then he got up and did it _again and again_. Unlike you, however, Zuko came here to learn, _not_ to try and _belittle_ us." She motioned to him in a way he'd become familiar with, and Zuko gruffed a sigh and stood.

Their match did last a little longer this time, but then she pulled her fan on him last minute and he lost first one dao then the other. Then, naturally, he ended up on his back, but in an almost gentle way. Suki crouched down and patted him on the head.

(Girls were also _weird_.)

Sokka had watched them while trying to struggle free, and he lost a little of that _anger_. Now, he still seemed pouty, but he was also _considering_.

"How ... _How long_ have you been at this with them?" Zuko turned his scowl away from the ceiling to Sokka, and he answered while he rolled to his feet.

"All morning. Most of the afternoon. I finally get how they do the thing with their _feet_, but now I have to figure out how to _fight against fans._" He scowled at Suki for extra emphasis with this point, and Sokka frowned harder before he finished freeing himself and stomped off. Iroh watched the boy with a familiar but strange look on his face and stood.

"I think I will go for a walk, and stretch these old muscles. Nephew, don't wander too far if you leave." The old general then turned to the man he'd been playing with and bowed. "Forgive me, friend. You know how stiff muscles can cramp one's concentration."

Both old men laughed and then Uncle was gone and Zuko was left with the warriors, and the remaining old guy. They stared at each other for a long minute, and then Zuko slowly picked up his Dao. They tag-teamed him this time, and it was a really good _warm-up_. Aside from his head getting knocked into the Pai Sho board. That hurt.

(Sokka and Uncle came back a little later, and bowed before Suki, asking if she would be willing to teach him how to move like she did. Zuko had no idea what Uncle said to the boy, but the string of apologies that attached itself to his request was impressive. So was the way she _so sweetly_ trapped him with that 'all of our traditions,' clause.)

(Sokka looked _weirdly nice_ in their warrior garb. Zuko declined the offer of trying it on. It was a good ending to a good day, where he didn't think once about the nightmares he would have that night. They came as expected and ate up his mind like a toddler with fire flakes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is done, but I need feedback, as I'm not happy with it.


	7. Fanning the flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *considers lighting my outline on fire, because everything is ruined now, thank you Sokka.*  
Unless you all beg me to stop, because there are glaringly obvious problems in Ch. 6 that my sleep-deprived mind missed, I am going forward, full speed. (With minor course adjustments. Because Water Tribe.)

By their second day on Kyoshi, he and Uncle took a walk to a nearby stream, and he helped his Uncle shear his top knot, then trim the hair so it was even. He watched as his Uncle shed the last vestiges of his honor from one life, and listened while he made quiet promises for this new chapter. They changed into the clothing he'd bought for them the day before, and burned most everything Fire Nation. 

(Except for their boots, and Zuko kept his much _lighter and smaller_ but no less _durable_ chest plate set. It was comforting to wear under his blue spirit garb.)

When Aang and the Water Tribe siblings saw them, they seemed startled. Zuko wasn't sure why -they were about to be surrounded by people that had spent their whole _lives_ learning to fear the Fire Nation. He and Uncle were also trying to come up with Earth Kingdom names, and a back story that Zuko wouldn't botch.

(Apparently, lying about things that might get him killed, like thinking _treasonous thoughts_, was entirely different than lying about the most basic things, like a fake name. He was very bad at lying about basic things.)

He expected more grumbling from Sokka about Fire Nation ruffians pretending to be harmless, but the boy just muttered something _unintelligible_ and proceeded to eat _more than should be possible_ for his _height_ and _weight_. Zuko managed to eat what counted as a full meal for himself, and Uncle, he noted, cut back on his usual portions. (Apparently, now that they were going to be on the run for an _unspoken_ amount of time, Uncle was trying to go on a _diet_.) Zuko didn't like the thought of a _skinnier_ Uncle, but then, Uncle Iroh was _Uncle Iroh_, skinnier or rounder made no difference. Zuko still quietly split a dumpling with his Uncle and then stared until the older man ate it _chuckling_.

"When are we leaving?" Katara asked when the sounds of food being eaten quieted down, and Aang smiled absently at her as he fiddled with his marbles. 

(He'd apparently spent the entire day _running_ from a group of girls that thought he was _amazing_.)

"Oh, I'm not sure. Tomorrow afternoon or the day after. There are a couple of things here I want to _look into_." This was such a blatant fib, but the boy did it while smiling a mischievous smile, and really, Zuko didn't argue the point too much because he wanted to spend tomorrow morning _sparing_ some more. He was alright with leaving the next afternoon.

(They _didn't_ leave the next afternoon. Each new girl that _smiled_ at Aang and fawned over his Nomad _tricks_ was more _fuel_ to the fire. Zuko found him posing with a whole gaggle of young women for an artist, but the artist in question eventually walked away, because more _kept coming_. It was ridiculous, and someone needed to stop it, but Sokka was busy _learning_ from Suki, and Katara was _extremely irritated_ the boy wasn't listening to them -which meant she was the wrong person to speak sense to him._ Irritated sisters_ were_ not-nice_ sisters. This _also_ meant that Zuko was out, because he wasn't even sure _how_ to be nice and _stay nice_. This left Uncle, who _tried_ imparting wisdom through a proverb, but Aang apparently interpreted it the _wrong way_, because they didn't leave and he _increased his shenanigans_.)

They'd been on Kyoshi three _additional_ days before Zuko had enough. Sure, it was three days of Zuko getting a _consistent string_ of sparring partners, while Sokka donned their traditional garb with less and less grumbling, but Aang became more _frustrating_. The monk was letting the _attention_ go to his head, which was _understandable_ because he was a fun-loving _twelve-year-old_, but at the same time, made Zuko question the boy's _life choices. _Currently, he was watching the kid get goaded into doing various and creative types of pushups while Momo sat on his back looking adorably _comfortable_. Zuko was frowning at the display of apparent prowess when Sokka appeared at his side, notably not in the Kyoshi Warrior garb.

"Is he at it _again_?" Zuko nodded at the boy's question then motioned to a part of Sokka's chin where he'd missed some of the face paint. While he quickly scrubbed it off, Katara appeared on Zuko's other side, _scowling_ at Aang. 

"I've asked him three times today when we could leave, and he hasn't answered. We have _all_ the supplies. We have some _extra money_, apparently, thanks to Iroh winning a couple of Pai Sho games? We're all set to _go_." She complained. Zuko was right there with her. As much as he liked everything he was learning from the Warriors, he wanted to get _moving_. They had a lot of ground to cover between here and the _North Pole_.

(Katara, he knew, was itching to learn _Waterbending_. He was waiting until they were away from prying eyes to show her the only scroll he had about water bending, which went over very basic forms and the apparent spirituality of the bending type. Uncle had given it to him because learning about other bending types could be useful, especially when you were trying to produce lightening.)

(Producing lightening was important, because it was a weapon he _wasn't sure_ his father could use, and Zuko needed _every weapon_ he could get his hands on.)

Zuko nodded at the siblings and then marched forward. The girls _oohing_ and _aahing_ at Aang quieted at his approach, and he could feel several adult eyes on him. The people of Kyoshi still _overcharged_ him and Uncle if they bought anything, but they'd at least given up on the dirty looks -unless, _like now_, he approached one of their own even incidentally. He stopped a respectful distance from the kids and didn't look at them while he spoke.

"Aang. When are we _leaving_?" Aang paused in his _display of prowess_ and _jumped-floated_ to his feet, smiling as he bounced towards Zuko, with Momo desperately holding onto his bald head.

"What's the rush, _Hotman_?" Aang asked, and the use of such old-fashioned slang left him briefly speechless. He hadn't ever actually heard someone _use_ that term, just read about it, and it was ... _weird_. It must have shown in his expression because _Aang_ made a face, while still smiling. "Do people not use that one anymore?" Zuko felt his silence was answer enough, so he moved on.

"Look, I get that you're having a _good time_ here, but we need to move on. It isn't a good idea for _you_ of all people to stay in one place too long." Aang frowned slightly, then smiled again. 

"I appreciate that you're _worried_ Zuko, but I think we'll be fine for at least another day, right? Besides, I want to see if maybe I can ride the _Unagi_ instead of the Elephant Koi!" Zuko was five seconds away from shouting _a lot of things_ when the monk admitted that, and Sokka was suddenly there, carefully steering Zuko away and taking over. That was _good_, because Zuko needed to _count his breaths_ and _massage the bridge of his nose_, and overall _try not to shout_. 

(Also, try not to think about the fact that Sokka had toned down on his _attitude_. He really wanted to know _what_ Uncle had said to give the boy such a thoughtful look on his face every time he went to say something scathing about them. He also secretly _didn't_ want to know. Which was why he was _pretending not to notice_, and _really not talking about it_.)

"_Aang_. Buddy, _pal_. You can't do that. You barely got away from it _the first time_, and the word kind of needs the Avaatra to _not_ maim himself for the sake of _showing off_. We need to _seriously consider_ leaving, and you need to _try_ not to do drastic things. The rest of us are ready to leave, by the way. We're only _waiting_ for you." 

Which was maybe the_ wrong thing_ to say to an eccentric Monk child who'd been taught to _go where the wind took him_, because Aang was pouty and snippy after that, and then disappeared. Katara _caved_ and went to find him an hour later. Sokka went off to possibly say goodbye to Suki (and if he did so with a _slightly dreamy_ look on his face, Zuko pretended not to notice), and Zuko and Uncle double-checked all their supplies. Everything was fine, and then ... things _weren't fine_, because there was a Fire Nation warship apparently, and _everyone_ was looking at Iroh and Zuko like they were responsible. 

(The warriors vouched for them. That was surprising, but not as surprising as the Warriors asking him and Iroh for advice in fending off an attack. Zuko knew they wouldn't like what he and Iroh had to say. They didn't, but they did take the advice under consideration while they planned. Thankfully, Katara drug Aang into the village just before Zhao of all people rode in. The sun boiled above them.)

"Give up the Avatar, and I'll let some of you live. Admit that he was _never here_, and I'll only burn down _parts_ of your village." Zuko got a fresh reminder for why he hated the Commander. Most of the village had been lead away, via heavy advisement from Zuko and Iroh, and the Warriors fended off most of the search parties while Zuko and Iroh got Katara and Sokka into position. Aang played bait really well, keeping just within sight and just out of reach, and proving that he was very much the Avatar through the creative use of _gale-force winds_. Eventually, they got him into Appa's saddle and heading away, and Zuko and Iroh made sure to stay ducked out of sight as they fled.

Apparently, as they flew over the cove's water and Zhao and his men gave chase, the Unagi rose from the depths with determination. Zuko heard it's scream of rage, but didn't get to see it spit freezing water at the Fire Benders. (Katara swore to him that night over the fire that their leader looked ready to pop a blood vein when the serpent wouldn't _stop_ spraying him and his men. Katara also said it had felt like the oceans were alive beneath them, singing a siren song to defend and attack. Zuko hadn't felt that, but he had felt Agni's light like a flame that didn't hurt on his shoulders.) He felt Agni's light now, on his face, and he tracked the slow sink of the sun through his eyelids as they flew North-ish. 

(Aang felt terribly _guilty_ about the whole thing, and before Katara could try to _sooth_ or _mom_ him into feeling better, Zuko took up the responsibility of being _brutally honest_ and pointed out that he _should_ feel guilty. That he needed to remember that he couldn't just _tell_ everyone _who and what he was_, and that when the rest of his party spoke up about something, he needed to _listen_ and consider with more care.

It wasn't just _his_ life he risked when he wanted to stay somewhere. It was _theirs_, and _every_ villager or tradesman around him. Aang pouted about this for a little while, but later that night when he finally felt it was safe to have Appa land, he thanked Zuko for his honesty, and for worrying about everyone's safety so well. It was on the tip of his tongue to admit that like it or not, they were _his_ people now, but that was such a strange thought, he pushed it _aside_. He was probably just _tired_.)

* * *

Zhao watched the Avatar and his bison disappear into the sky. He watched his men fend off attacks from a bevy of sea creatures as they tried to give chase. He _watched_ and he _stewed_, and he ground his teeth until the attacks stopped and they limped their way after the Avatar. 

"Get me a messenger hawk!"

He bellowed. His plans had just shifted from '_find Prince Zuko_,' to '_capture the Avatar and let Zuko find him_.' The Fire Lord needed to know that the World Bridge was, in fact, _alive_.

(Fujin Reitsui, mother of the Southern winds, let the hawk leave the ship, then spent several days playing with it at the temple that used to house her people. She finally -_resentfully_\- let the bird continue on its way, but only after making sure it knew they could play again on its return trip. The longer she stalled Zhao, the longer the last of her human children had to get away. She hadn't been able to save her children a hundred years ago -she would not let the last of them die now.)

* * *

When they reached Omashu, Zuko took one look at the giant, mountain-like structure and shook his head slowly. The last thing they needed was to be discovered in an enormous Earth Kingdom city with _impossible-to-scale_ walls that was _filled_ with Earthbenders. Iroh wordlessly agreed with him, turning to start setting up a campsite and despite Aang's _pestering_, they finally managed to convince him to just go do what he needed to, _they were really fine with making camp with Appa_.

Aang's disguise, and the subsequent attitude that he applied to it, left Zuko very grateful that they'd elected to stay behind. After Iroh and Zuko lost sight of the trio heading into Omashu, they turned to make camp. Iroh did the setup, while Zuko started dinner. He was hoping the rest would be back before nightfall -Aang had said his _'business'_ shouldn't take them very long. 

(Naturally, they didn't return _at all_. That left Zuko with helping Appa find good shrubs to eat, and brushing down the bisons' sides. The animal had started to look a little ruffled the last few days, not that Aang was _neglecting_ care, just that they'd had little time for _in-depth_ care. Zuko spoiled him now, because the _fluffy monster_ was very good about carrying them from one point to another. He fell asleep with the Bison as a backrest, which was a good way for _staving off cold_ -there was no other reason to cuddle such a large, _flammable_ monster. None at all.)

It was the middle of the night when he woke suddenly, unsure if he was waking because of a _nightmare_ or _something else_ when- a rumble that started in the distance, and then the ground was shaking beneath him. The Earth broke underneath him, and Uncle let out a shout. If it weren't for the Earth holding him like a vice, he would have thrown a fireball and their cover would be _super blown_. As it was. _Earthy prison_. Small miracles did happen. 

Appa was rampaging somewhere behind him, but another rumble and minor earthquake later, the _Appa-is-angry_ noises had stopped. He _really_ hoped they hadn't killed the Avatars bison.

"These are them, right?" Zuko looked up with a preemptive glare in place and tried not to be startled when Three heavily muscled men surrounded them, Sokka in tow. It took a second for his heart to burn with betrayal his feelings to gain a new _weight_. A new, _crushing_ weight that was _ridiculous_ because it was only _natural_ that the boy who had loudly proclaimed his hatred for the Fire Nation for the last week and a half had-

Then he noticed the stone handcuffs and the gag around the boy's mouth. Sokka was shrugging. He shrugged at every question they asked him, and glared, and overall made _extremely rude gestures_ with his hands, and let his silence speak for him like a _pro_. Uncle would be proud if he weren't too busy _being buried_ with his back turned to them.

"Look, boy, the King's _punishment_ will go a lot smoother for you if you just _cooperate_." 

If Zuko had been able to take more than small, shallow breaths, he would have shouted _a lot_ of things just then.

(Things like '_How dare you threaten him?_' And '_What did Aang do now?_' And '_Release me so I can smite you with fire!_' On second thought, he probably _wouldn't_ shout the last one, but he _really wanted to_.)

The guards turned to him again and tried to ask him questions -and it took them a long time to realize that he _couldn't_ answer because he was buried too well and breathing hurt. Zuko had hoped that enemy soldiers would be _a little smarter_ -what kind of _luck_ had kept his father's armies from completely taking over? 

(The answer to that was _Badger Moles_. The Fire Nation could only ever get so far before the Badger Moles became a _problem_.)

They loosened the Earth's hold on him, and Zuko thought that if he wiggled just right, he'd probably be able to get loose. This would be, of course, after he managed to even out his _breathing_ because _breaths tasted so good wow he was light-headed_.

"Are you associates of the young Avatar Aang?" The man in front of him half shouted half asked.

Zuko answered with a glare and another pointed gasp for air. 

"They match the description, and from the way this one is looking, I'm gonna say yes." Another volunteered. Zuko took in a couple more breaths and was ready to start _shouting_ when they _gagged_ him. It was _horrifying_, because the man just pulled the gag out of his sleeve like it _belonged there_. They had him out of the Earth faster than he could attack, and bound right next to Sokka, but he was _wearing boots_ and they weren't, and it might have been _childish_, but he took advantage and went for the _toes_.

(They learned to shackle his legs, and one of them had to heft him over his beefy shoulder, and Zuko took _vicious satisfaction_ in jabbing his elbows into the man's nerves. If he'd been able to apply adequate force, he would have blocked _all the chi_. Ty Lee had accidentally taught him that move when she kept using it on him -and he was never more grateful for it, because he could tell it was _irritating_.) 

By the time the guards managed to get him and the others, plus a very _irritable_ Bison, into the city and the heart of the palace, Zuko could feel _murderous intent_ rolling off his victim in _waves_. He kept jabbing at the nerve between the fifteen and twentieth vertebrae, _with more vigor_. A cackle echoed through the room, and Zuko was set down with force. He rolled back into the fall and jumped to his feet, glaring at the Earth Kingdom soldier. The soldier glared back, and there really _was_ murder in his eyes.

(He was doing it wrong. To really convey the intention to _kill_ or _maim_ a child that was irritating, you had to smile all cold while you looked at them with _murder eyes_. Most of his instructors, Zhao, and father had _all_ taught him that one.)

"I hear this one is _feisty_!" A loud voice _boomed_, followed by a _snorting cackle_. Zuko managed to turn around without falling -stupid shackles- and glared at the speaker.

The old man sitting on the throne was wearing a _garishly purple_ outfit that was possibly the _gaudiest_ thing Zuko had ever seen. (His headpiece was also gaudy, and just as _stupid_.) The old man studied first him, then Iroh, and then he tapped his chin and squinted.

"Now, I am an _old man_, so you'll both have to come _closer_. I can hardly see you from over there." Zuko felt like pointing out that his guards had stopped them there, but he also wanted to know the man's angle -and to possibly burn that ridiculous headpiece, but fire was _still_ a _bad idea._ Zuko shuffled closer very pointedly, taking his time, and he could feel the murder-waves behind him increase. Iroh was following him with unspoken exasperation, and a lot of wariness. 

(Looking back, Zuko should have paid more attention to that wariness.)

When they were finally standing a respectful distance from the steps of the throne, the king _hummed_ and _ahhed_, and _cackle-snorted_ some more. This went on for such a long time, Zuko was legitimately concerned about this King -he'd _clearly_ hit himself in the head one-too-many times. _How_ he was still king was baffling, unless he was one of those figure-head rulers. The old man finally stopped cackle-snorting to rub at his eyes, and then smile at him and Uncle all crooked like.

"How very interesting! You'll do perfectly for some of the challenges!" Not what Zuko had expected, but better than '_Fire Nation spies! Crush them rocks!_' Zuko would take it. Possibly. He had no idea what challenges the man was talking about. It must have shown on his face because the king cackle-snorted some more and motioned to the guards.

"Bring the old man and the Water Tribe boy to the room with the girl." He ordered. Then he fluttered his fingers at Zuko. "Put this one on challenge number one!" The guards hesitated at that, and the king scowled. 

"Sire, do you want us to hang him in the waterfall instead of the key?" Zuko panicked for a brief instant, because that sounded like 'do you want us to drown him,' but the king slapped his forehead and then waved a hand. 

"No, no! Which one is the one with Flopsie?" Zuko had no idea what a Flopsie was, and he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know, by the resigned tone of the guards' reply.

"The second one, sire." The king clapped his hands eccentrically, then smiled at Zuko in a way that could have been murder-cold if he didn't just look crazy.

"_Perfect_! Hang him over a _pit of spikes_ on a rope that _slowly lowers_! Aang will _have_ to figure it out if he wants to keep his _Fire Bender_ _friend_ safe!" There was a sudden silence, and Zuko considered _how hot_ he'd have to make his hands and feet to melt stone. _Too hot_. His mind supplied, along with a painful string of remembered feelings. He didn't want to burn himself. He also wasn't about to make this easy for the _clearly-insane-no-doubts-about-it_ king and his _henchmen_. He stepped on _all the toes_ to the mad _cackle-snort_ of the King of Omashu.

_______

Iroh managed to shrug off the most recent attempt to stop him from reaching his Nephew when King Bumi stepped in front of him. He had heard rumors of this king, but never before had he seen him with his own eyes, and he was regretting that now.

"_No harm will come to my Nephew._" He said it quiet, aware of Sokka's eyes where the boy struggled against his guard. 

Bumi _cackle-snorted_, but it was a surprisingly kind sound, considering the show he'd just put on.

"The White Lotus blooms wide to those who know her secrets." It wasn't exactly a promise, but from what Iroh knew of this man, it was the best he would get. He let himself be taken away, but much like his Nephew, he showed them how _unhappy_ about it he was. He did this by smiling at the guards and letting it serve as a _promise_. 

(They seemed to understand the message because most of them stopped meeting his gaze. That was good. Because if anything did happen to his Nephew, he wasn't sure what he might do to this city -only that he would be breaking every promise he ever made to himself.)

(When Agni's eye peeked over the world that morning, he was angry at first, but then considering. His Dragon-given-human-flesh wouldn't be so very _calm_ if his Chosen was in real danger. He still made sure to make the daylight streaming into Omashu _extra hot_. Just as a matter of principle.)

_______

Aang had thought his day couldn't get _any more messed up_ when he walked into that sunken court and looked up. He was instantaneously proven wrong, because Zuko was hanging by his hands to his right, gagged and glaring, and below him, was _a whole lot of spikes_. This was mind-boggling, but fit in perfectly with how _crazy_ this King was proving to be. Zuko muffled something, and it sounded important, and Aang was getting ready to _help him_ -"_Hold on Zuko, I'll be right up!_"- when the Earth sunk one of his feet into the ground and _held_. He fell flat on his face. Falling hurt, he decided, and then the King's voice echoed through the court.

"Now, now, don't be impatient! I've lost my pet Flopsie, and I need help finding him. Won't you retrieve him for me? I should point out that your friend there _very clearly_ depends on you doing so _promptly_." Aang glared when the rope holding Zuko jerked down a couple inches, and the boy glared harder and muffled something again. 

"You're insane! How is a pet worth more than a life!" He argued, and Zuko's rope jerked again. He got the message and started looking, to the sound of Zuko grumbling and Sokka keeping up a frantic chatter that kept getting interrupted by the guards. They ended up gagging him too. 

He thought he found Flopsie, a Bunny, of all things -which was weird and a little exotic, so maybe right up this king's alley- and then a huge Gorilla Goat was there, _roaring_ and _chasing_, and _grabbing_. When he checked on Zuko it looked like his feet were touching the spikes and he really just needed Flopsie to stop _running_ and the Gorilla Goat to stop _chasing him_ and- The idea hit him like a strike of lightning and he frowned as he turned to look at the Gorilla Goat who was _following_ him, and then at the hole the _Bunny_ had just disappeared down. 

"Flopsie?" He asked hesitantly, and the creature _excitedly_ stopped in front of him. 

(After he got above and _demanded_ Zuko's safe release, he realized what Zuko and Sokka had been trying to tell him. There weren't _any_ spikes beneath the boy, just a whole bunch of cleverly placed ones around him. From the glare he sent the King, Aang was sure that none of that _mattered_ because if he could have, he would have _lit the Kings ridiculous hat on fire_. As it was, the guards assigned to dragging him away for the next challenge shackled his feet and did a funny little dance when the boy tried to stomp on their toes. Aang realized how well-practiced the dance was and was secretly proud the other boy had clearly been giving the Earth Benders a tough time.)

_______

Iroh watched King Bumi fight the Avatar, and decided that no matter how much his Nephew grumbled, he was going to need to stick to his diet. He was an impressive bender, he felt no shame in admitting, but he simply didn't move like _that_ anymore.

(Here, Bumi jumped impossibly high for his age and smacked the ground into a concussive wave. Iroh watched the earth beneath him turn from hard stone to dirt.)

He may _need_ to move like that, being in the Avatars company. It was time for the Dragon to come out of retirement. He mentally reviewed all the things he would have to pick up again, and decided that a little company wouldn't be bad during his training. It was perhaps time to increase his Nephews teaching. Maybe young Sokka wouldn't be averse to getting additional warriors training either.

(Here, Bumi ripped off part of the balcony above, and Iroh was glad that it wasn't his Nephew down in that ring, though he had to reach out and grab the boy's tunic to keep him that way.)

Having Sokka and Zuko train together might even warm the cool water between them. He knows the reasons for Sokka's attitude, and he is sure that is given time and _opportunity_, the two boys could be friends. That was something both of them dearly needed, and while Aang would make a good friend, he was also a boy who preferred fun and peaceful past times to war games and weapons training. Yes, he thought, as Bumi held a boulder the size of Appa over his and the Avatar's head. Having two young boys to train while whipping himself into shape would be just what he needed. 

(And, he admitted, Young Katara might _also_ be interested in learning how to fight. He'd seen her eying Zuko's dao with equal parts _interest_ and _disgust_. The way she so desperately wanted to be able to use her bending to _fight_ was another clue that she would make a good student. He was positive that while he couldn't help her master her bending, he could nudge her in the right direction. He'd known many Waterbenders in his time after all. By the end of the day, Iroh had a plan.)

_______

After. After everything, Aang sat down with Bumi on one of Omashu's tall walls and watched Zuko stomp across the bridge, Iroh trailing after him, looking much calmer even from a distance than he had inside the walls. Sokka was right behind Iroh, but he stopped with Katara half-way and looked back. 

(Appa had already gone back to where they'd previously made camp, after several angry roars at the Earthbender guards. Aang would try to get that story later. He was _sure_ he wouldn't like it.) 

"Why did you involve Zuko like that? I still can't figure out what you were trying to show me there." Bumi _cackle-snorted_, and smiled a wide smile. It was familiar, and made Aang's heart hurt -and also wonder how he hadn't seen it _before_\- but focusing on the negatives would only discolor the positives, so he forced himself to not feel that pang of _guilt-shame-longing_. 

"That wasn't so much for you as it was for _me_." Which made no sense, and the confusion must have shown because Bumi laughed all over again. 

"He tried to burn the ropes -when you weren't looking. He tried to burn them, to show that you didn't have to _worry_. Lucky we had the presence of mind to have him hanging from a steel chain before we tied him up. I needed to see what he would do, and I'm satisfied that he'll look after _you_ the same way _you'll_ look after _him_. _The Avatar_ needs people around him that are willing to go that _extra mile_, Aang. The world is too dangerous for you _otherwise_."

That made a weird, _Bumi-logic_ kind of sense, but Aang didn't really want Zuko _breaking limbs_ in an effort to be _helpful_. He resolved to keep a closer watch over the boy's clear disregard for self-preservation. Iroh looked like he could use more help in that particular club anyway, and he liked Iroh. He made _great tea_ and gave _good advice_, when Aang was able to _decipher it fully_. He hugged Bumi before he jumped from the wall, and letting go was the hardest thing since finding Gyatso. But he did. He let go and glided down, and walked towards all the current positives in his life. 

(At least, a small part of his mind whispered, _something_ from his past still _walked_ and _moved_, and roamed the Earth. At least he wasn't the only thing that was a hundred and twelve and remembered a time when the four nations were neighbors who bickered but had no need for conquering each other. At least _someone else_ had looked at Iroh and Zuko and seen not a threat pretending niceties, but good people trying to do the right thing.)

(Bumi's people still didn't understand why he'd let two Firebenders walk _in_ and _out_ of his city without any kind of punishment. Bumi only _cackle-snorted_ and told them they needed to learn to _see_ better. It was exactly the kind of answer they should have expected.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure how well I've written Bumi, but it feels right for the story. Let me know if you find any issues! :D


	8. Fair warning is good warning: part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a tough day, and it'll be a tough morning tomorrow, because I'm going to be even more busy, but I reeeeaaalllly want to get through the next couple chapters.

They stopped in the mining town despite Zuko and Iroh's objections. They needed supplies, and Sokka was _slightly terrible_ at hunting when there was no snow to help muffle his steps. Zuko was terrible at hunting because he took _one look_ at what he was supposed to be killing and saw his Mother's_ turtle-ducks_. He never could go through with killing it.

(This didn’t, he later argued, make him a _vegetarian_. He was fine with eating meat -he just …didn’t want to be responsible for killing it. Aang probably would have pressed the teasing after that, but he seemed happy that there was someone who enjoyed _all vegetable meals_ as much as he did.)

So they went into the mining town on full alert, with every intention of _staying together_ as a group. They only needed some basic food supplies after all, it was a simple in-and-out kind of deal. _No reason_ for them to spread out and risk getting stuck somewhere.

(_Naturally_ they accidently split up. Zuko wouldn’t know till later, but his Uncle wandered into a _tea shop_ with Sokka tailing him, and Aang and Momo got _distracted_ by the sounds of someone crying. Zuko was coming to find that being Aang’s … _companion_ was basically a job of trying to keep him from getting suckered into problems that weren’t his.)

He and Katara were the only ones to take their initial task _seriously_ -probably because they did the most cooking. Katara growled into the air, then sighed a second later, just as he was starting to edge away. When he didn’t light anything on fire -or rather, _soak someone_\- he judged it was safe to help her stock up.

“How do you know how to do this?” She asked out of nowhere, and he gave her a confused look from under the shadow of his conical hat. She tilted her chin at the vegetables they knew they could take and keep fresh for more than a few days -like gourds and roots, and any potato or squash- and Zuko shrugged slightly.

“Back on the _Wani_, I was … friends with Cook Zui. If I had questions about -well, _things_, I went to him. He taught me how to cook -and incidentally help in the kitchen- in exchange for _answers_.” Katara nodded along to this, and for the first time, he could see how she might be the easier one to get along with. When she wasn’t being _overbearingly sister-like_, she was companionable. This was a nice change of pace from Aang’s _all-over_ energy and Sokka’s _wild sarcasm_ -which even toned down was cutting and made Zuko want to fight him before anything else.

They managed a short, _less-awkward-than-he’d-feared_ conversation while they shopped, and when they were done, they put a little effort into finding the others. Sokka and Iroh had apparently wandered from the tea shop to somewhere -no one knew where- and Aang was in the air. Not _literally_ thankfully, because they’d _had that discussion_, but metaphorically. It was through silent unanimous decision that they turned and headed for Appa.

It was no surprise to him that they were done storing all their food stuff _before_ Aang , Sokka and Uncle made a reappearance. What did surprise him were the serious looks on their faces. He and Katara jumped out of the saddle and head towards them. Before he could even ask what was wrong, Aang was _talking_.

“Okay, so look, I know you’re _probably_ going to get all growly because I ran off and I _promised_ that I wouldn’t, but before you do -we have to _help them_.” He must have let all his baffled feelings out on display because the boy kept talking. “_These people_! I heard this crying, and there was a woman, and the Fire Nation guys around here are _not nice,_ and they take the benders and _put them somewhere_! They might be _killing them_, and they just took her son, and she said he’s like, our age! I can’t just _let them_, so I need to figure out how to _help_, because that’s _my job,_ right? Isn’t this kind of stuff what I’m supposed to help with?” Aang was looking at him like he should know, and also like he might be having a panic attack. Zuko could see the signs in the kids shaking hands and wobbling steps, and he _knew_ those. He was hoping that the kid wasn’t going to hyperventilate.

Just to be on the safe side, Zuko reached out and shoved the boy’s head down until he was crouching with his head between his knees. Iroh stopped both Katara and Sokka from stopping Zuko, and the former prince made sure to speak so they could hear.

“You need to _breathe_. Proper breath control is important for an Airbender, right? With me. In.” He breathed in and Aang stopped struggling long enough to follow suit. “Out. In. Out. Good. You feel calmer?” Zuko knew he did because his shoulders had stopped shaking, but he let Aang choose to nod. Zuko released him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is this important to you?” It was something Uncle always asked him when they spoke about _big decisions_. He quietly asked it when Zuko insisted they take a skivvy to Katara and Sokka's village. He'd asked it every time it mattered. It was one of the few things that wasn’t a proverb. Aang nodded quickly, then visibly _forced_ himself to breathe some more. Zuko shrugged.

“Alright. As long as you’re aware that the _consequences_ will be loss of anonymity.” Aang tilted his head in a way that said both ‘_I’ve already heard this but in proverb form_,’ and ‘_please translate_.’ “The instant you decide to break Fire Nation prisoners out of _any_ kind of encampment, any Fire Nation citizen left standing will give a full description of you, and walking into places like that mining town will be like _rolling the dice_. Maybe they have a wanted poster, and maybe they don’t.”

Aang nodded again, but slower, and Zuko knew the kid was worrying about the consequences, but also determined to help. That was alright. Zuko’s entire purpose in traveling with him was to help Aang get through this new world, and if Aang felt this is what he needed to do, it was what they’d _do_.

(Zuko didn’t say he’d been dying to try breaking into a military encampment for a _year and a half_. That would raise all the wrong questions from Uncle, and he preferred it if Iroh remained _oblivious_ to Zuko’s shadier activities.)

“Get me a map.” They had a _plan_ to make.

* * *

It was Katara that ended up really saving the day. She took all the heated words the trapped Earth benders threw at them and turned them into a call for arms like a poet. Zuko contemplated that if she’d been in the Fire Nation militia, she’d probably be the type of high-ranking officer that could give _incredibly moving speeches_ that inspired you to run at the Earthbenders in front of you with no fear, and die with those words still ringing in your ears. That was a _scary-cool_ power to have, and being a sister made it _even worse_.

Now, he plucked her necklace off the deck as Aang lead Appa down and the prisoners fled. An older man and a young boy were thanking her, and promising that they had taken her words to heart. He could see in their eyes that when they got back home, they wouldn’t just _drive_ the Fire Nation from their waters. They’d _destroy_ them. Zuko could live with that.

(He’d seen some of what they were doing to the people of that town before they left for the prison, and even if their flames hadn’t been _very bright_, fire could burn no matter how strong or weak it started. There was _no honor_ in threatening the weak.)

When the Earthbenders turned to him, he gave them a wordless bow, and gently handed Katara her necklace. She paled when she saw it in his hand, reaching for her throat. The younger of the two Earthbenders cleared his throat, and when Zuko looked, he returned the bow Zuko had given.

“Before _five minutes ago_, I didn’t think I’d ever trust a Fire Bender. You saved my father from that last blast, and you worked with the Avatar to help us requisition those ships. _Right now_, that means more to me than where you were born, so thank you.” Zuko was struck speechless by this and nodded awkwardly before he quickly turned away and _walked-didn’t-run_ towards Appa.

(He heard Katara quietly thanking them on his behalf and saying _sister-things_ like 'Sorry he's awkward. He's still getting used to positive responses,' and other nonsense. _He was not awkward_; he just had _no reason_ to say anything! _This was his job!_)

Uncle got into the saddle on his own, and he and Sokka watched the men give Aang one last thanks before they fled. Zuko hoped that they didn’t just make it safely -he hoped they won. As terrible as it was to think, his people had been doing worse for nearly a century. Aang possibly had the right idea; This was what they were _meant_ to be doing.

(Zuko didn’t know, but when those prisoners went home, the sun went _cold_ for the Fire Benders abusing an entire people because they could. Agni watched his children die and had no anger -only _sadness_ that it had come to this. The former prisoners had stories to tell about the _Avatar_ and the people he traveled with. They told tales about the _courageous_, _inspiring_ young Waterbending warrior that rose the ocean to meet the soldiers flame -an exaggeration they would never admit to- and how a Water Tribe warrior had disarmed Fire Nation soldiers -_bender or non-bender_\- left and right.

How there were _rebel fire benders_ escorting the Avatar to the North. How they’d watched what looked like Earth Kingdom refugees work in tandem to redirect flames back at the armored soldiers trying to _kill_ fleeing Prisoners. They told tales about an Avatar that laughed _mischievously_ as he swept people off the deck with gale-force winds, an Avatar that had brought them a weapon to fight with when they thought they were defenseless. One who’d stood by and watched them carry out justice on the man who’d imprisoned them and smiled sadly. They kept their promise about keeping Katara’s words in mind. They headed for the war front -_they had a bone to pick_.)

* * *

Ozai read the reports coming in from Zhao, and then from the mining prison warden, and he sat back in thought. Zhao made no further mention of Zuko, either his efforts to figure out where the worthless brat was hiding, or his attempts to root him out. (He also made no mention of Iroh, but Ozai had long accepted that his stupid brother would be a thorn in his side until he personally rooted out the problem.) The Prison Warden spoke about two ‘rebel’ Firebenders whose descriptions varied. Apparently, only a handful of men and women involved in the fight had gotten a good look. One series of account stated that the old man who wore no top knot, his hair dishonorably short, was much taller than average. Other reports on the same man stated his beard was streaked with black still (so potentially not an old man) and that he had more muscles than the beefiest Earthbender soldiers. Accounts on the younger man ranged in description wildly. Some said he had long, braided hair and wore a veil under his conical hat, was lean and wiry and clearly a young adult. More still thought he might have been a boy only recently past his manhood, but one that was just as well built as the older man.

The warden himself wasn’t sure. He kept using phrases like ‘trick of the light,’ and ‘fluid shapeshifters,’ and swore that the Avatar must have summoned fire wielding spirits to his aid. Ozai thought there was a much similar answer. A much better answer. He ruffled through the papers again until he found the one that was most incriminating, the one from a level-headed woman who swore up and down that the younger of the two Firebenders -and she knew they were Firebenders, from the way they moved- had a scar splashed across the left side of his face. Yes. Ozai had a very good idea for what to do with this.

If he played this right, he wouldn’t have to hunt down his son. The Avatar would take care of all his problems.

(Had he been paying attention that day or any other, he would have noticed that Princess Azula was startlingly absent from her formal lessons. Her instructors thought nothing of this, as she’d been skipping regularly because they were apparently _boring_. Even when he found out about her continued absence, he would only laugh at the men that were supposed to be training his daughter, because they were clearly _too weak_ to keep a child in line. He wouldn’t be laughing by the time evening meal rolled around. No one would be.)

* * *

The winter solstice was a week away before Zuko found the time to show Katara the basic Waterbending scroll he had. The girl _squawked_ and _growled_, and overall, acted _very sisterly_ while berating him for not showing her sooner. He tried to tell her that between Kyoshi, where he barey knew her, Omashu -which needed _no_ explanation- and then the mining town, there hadn’t been time. She just glared at him until he stopped defending himself. At her insistence, they found somewhere to camp so she could try and _practice_.

(Their camp ended up at the base of a mountain, with a good, strong river running by it. Zuko was _reasonably_ sure the next township was within flying distance, and was Fire Nation free, so camping for a few days while Katara practiced and Iroh got Sokka used to training wouldn’t hurt. He’d found out his Uncle had offered to teach the Water Tribe boy some more fighting moves, and the other teen had accepted readily. Zuko would feel bad for what that _entailed_, but he couldn’t wait to see what Sokka thought of standard Fire Nation training.)

He and Aang spent the first half of that first day quietly giving Katara movement tips. She was exactly like Azula when she got _frustrated_, which meant Zuko’s nightmares that night would probably be taking a whole new, terrible turn. It also meant he kept a _healthy distance_ between himself and her. On the bright side, Zuko got to laugh at Sokka _a lot_ while the boy was put through standard Fire Nation drills. They were things Zuko had been doing since he was a child, so watching another culture trying to _acclimate_ to it was surprisingly funny.

(Sokka’s complaints were primarily almost always based off the time and repetition of each drill. Apparently, they were too fast, and they wanted too many movements all at once. Later, his only complaint was the time of day they drug him out of bed.)

They had a nice, light dinner, where Zuko _carefully_ demonstrated the wrist movements Katara was having trouble with -and he could well see how having an instructor would be good for her. Zuko and Aang understood the subtleties of the scroll because they'd been trained in bending from the instant they showed capability for it. Katara had only her _very frustrated self_, a Grandmother that couldn't help, an absentee father, and a brother that still called bending _magic_. He felt another pang of responsibility for everything his people had taken from hers and repeated the wrist movement every time she growled '_again_.'

(His nightmares _did_ take a turn for the worst. Instead of him trying desperately to protect a group of children wearing bright yellows and oranges, deep blues and wild greens, he was chained in one place while the fires turned against Azula, who was visibly flustered and now had no one to hide behind while she _composed_ herself. He watched her burn up in the flames with the other children.) 

He was up before Agni was even a dream on the horizon. He _stayed_ up, swinging his dao in a wild dance, trying to work out all the _feelings_ he had now. Azula would be fine, because Azula _always lies_. She was the _best_ at lying. She didn't _need_ her big brother to hide behind and _never had_. 

(This in itself was a lie, but he wouldn't realize that till much later. As it was, he'd managed to work out his anger _productively_, without shouting, _and_ half convince himself that his baby sister was _probably_ fine. He tried to imagine what she might be doing, but all he got was half the palace on fire while she _elegantly shrugged at the flames_.)

He was working himself up again when Uncle woke a little before Agni breached the sky. Iroh took one look at him and somehow managed to get Zuko sitting down and _drinking tea_ before Agni's eye peeked over distant mountains. He couldn't make himself talk about his nightmare, and Uncle never pushed, and somehow the _bitter-sweet-spicy_ tea did calm him down. They went through a set of warm up kata together, then Iroh broke off to wake Sokka and put him through more training while Zuko went through all the kata sets in his level. Aang fluttered around them, talking quickly with either parties -while occasionally mimicking movements curiously- but overall being _active_ and _chipper_.

(Katara woke up late, and growled about him not waking her up, and drug him from his training to help with hers. He went with a little bit of resentful mutterings quietly aimed at her back, and he danced through the Waterbender steps with her until he hurt more than usual and his nightmares were a distant thought.) 

The move she was trying to learn didn’t even seem that _hard_, just a big glob of water you were supposed to control fluidity, without loosing any water. It was the most basic of scrolls after all, but Katara’s problem was that it wanted big and impressive, and the Water Tribe girl worked best when she could control small, specific amounts of water.

(He’d watched her practicing with water in a bowl, or a cup, or sometimes the cooking pot before anything else was added. Her movements weren’t nearly as forced. Maybe they were going about this wrong way.)

He was pulled from his thoughts when Katara let out an excited shout, and he saw that she’d managed to pull a glob of water from the stream, one a little bigger than Aang’s head. She was making it dance -a little wobbly- in the pattern shown on the scroll. Then she turned to look at him with excitement, and the water ball flew towards him fast. He couldn’t dodge, because he wasn’t expecting it, and now he was _soaked_. Aang was laughing somewhere behind him, and Sokka was _apparently not being kept busy enough_, because he was _also_ laughing.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! But _Zuko_, I did it! I didn’t do it as big, but it’s a _start_, right?” Katara managed to make her apology sound very open ended, like she wasn’t sure how _many_ times that would happen, and also like she _wasn’t sorry at all_.

“_Right_.” He growled.

Zuko managed to _not_ shout at her, because he wanted to be happy she was improving in her own way, and also because he was too busy glaring. He could already tell the next few days were going to be ridiculously long. He needed more tea.

(Katara didn’t stop him when he turned away and headed for the pot Uncle had left sitting out. She just did a weird little dance with Aang and they talked excitedly while Zuko _drank his tea_ and _steamed himself dry_.)

* * *

Zhao read the instructions he’d received and smiled. There was a reason that, no matter he was always looking for a knife in the back, he and Fire Lord Ozai always could agree. Zhao took the new parameters of his mission to heart and turned to the Helmsman.

“Head to the last place the Avatar was sighted. We’ll track him down if I have to burn the whole Earth Kingdom to do so.”

The Helmsman obeyed without further prompting, and Zhao retired to his study to plot. When he finally caught both Avatar and banished Prince, he had a lot to say, and a lot of gloating, and he wanted it to be perfect.

* * *

Elsewhere, a small girl watched the waters go by like a blur. She wondered if she was supposed to feel something about how big it all was, but couldn’t figure out what. Her brother would have known, and he would have quietly explained it to her, and maybe she would have been able to imagine. As it was, the same numbness she always felt -except when she thought about father- was ever present and yawning above her.

(She didn’t think she liked the sea. It felt like there was something watching her back, and instinct told her she needed to either win the staring contest, or outlast whatever it was. The comfort in this _unnerving-being-watched_ feeling was that she could easily set whatever it was on fire if it became a problem.)

“More tea Princess?” _She_ asked, and Azula nodded. She didn’t particualrily like hot leaf juice, but the letters Zuzu had written her -after she’d finally been able to read them, a year too late- said he was- had been learning to tolerate it. She wouldn’t be outdone by her brother. That was how siblings worked. One-upmanship and competition.

(Or at least, that was how it had always needed to work. She wondered if that would change now. She wasn’t sure she liked that idea either.)

“How much longer?” she asked levelly -_not impatiently_, thank you, she wasn’t Zuzu- and she got a happy chuckle in return.

“By boat? A little under a month. Then it’s a matter of traveling overland. This time can depend on the weather and roads, and people.” Azula snorted but settled back into glaring at the waves blurring past.

_It_ was back again, and this time, she would win the staring contest.

* * *

The eclipse was only a few days away by the time they left their little campsite. Katara had managed to figure out the giant water ball and was slowly working on bending on a _larger scale_. It had helped when Iroh explained that bending came from within, and that the more she tried to force it, the more stress she was putting on her chi. They’d switched off teaching duties the day before, and Zuko had overseen Sokka’s training while Iroh helped Katara. His Uncle and the Waterbender had spoken quietly, and _a lot_ to each other. Zuko still had no idea what Iroh was _saying_ to people, but now Katara was also acting different around him and Uncle -and while it wasn’t a very noticeable change _overall_, he still _noticed_\- and he was again overcome with that feeling of both _wanting_ and _never wanting_ to know.

(They found the scar in the forest, miles of charred trees and wood that would take time to heal. Zuko thought of all the creatures that had lived here -and possibly the _people_ too- and wondered _why_. Why was the standard for his people _wanton destruction_? Were the only people that joined the militia blatantly unkind? Did the Fire Nation army go through and find the most violent benders around, then release them on the other nations? He wasn’t sure he wanted _that _answer _either_. Regardless, they ended up trying to help that town with its spirit problems, and Aang hadn’t been unnecessarily humble before. For all his peaceful ways, Aang had apparently _never_ received any training on how to deal with spirits. Then Sokka was _grabbed_ by the spirit in question, and Zuko was charging after it _and_ Aang.)

He lost them -the spirit moved too fast, and Aang had been determined to catch it. When he ran back to the village, Katara looked _pale_ and _worried_, and he wished he’d been able to do _more_. He sat with Katara through the night, both keeping watch over an empty rode and dark skies. They spoke very little, except when Zuko quietly admitted that he had a sister. He’d refused to say anything more, because thinking on it hurt too much. (And also summoned images of the palace on fire and Azula _smiling_ at the flames.) Iroh checked on them often -and brought _tea_ every time- and Appa curled around them with a soft groan.

(Momo had decided that Iroh needed comfort as well, but he gave _weirdly reassuring_ head-pats when Iroh checked on them. Zuko would never admit that the ball of fluff was _adorable_, and that he wished he had one of his own. It was also too _flammable_.)

Somehow Iroh got them inside before nightfall, his sharp eyes on the forest beyond. It became a waiting game of ‘_Who will show up first. The Avatar, or the Angry Spirit?_’ Zuko wished that Agni had chosen to be a little more vocal now, because he had no idea what he was supposed to do, or how to help.

(Thankfully, he never needed to figure it out, because Aang showed up after the spirit did, and somehow managed to calm it down. They got Sokka back, and the other villagers that he been disappeared. Zuko accidently used Firebending to turn some dangerous amounts of falling debris into ash. He’d been afraid that they’d get mobbed, and for a second, it had been a close call. Then Aang reminded everyone that Zuko had been trying to help, and that he was one of Aangs personal guides. He also announced that he needed to speak to Roku. Things got complicated after that.)

* * *

Zuko watched the ocean behind them, trying to figure out what kept bugging him about it, when Sokka made _strangled-angry-noises_.

“They _blockade_ the _waters_. _Seriously_? What, other parts of the ocean are free range, but _that part_ of the ocean is _by invitation only_?” Sokka was making a lot of sounds that didn’t sound healthy, and Zuko shifted a little _guilty-nervous_ next to him.

“They consider everything on the other side of the blockade Fire Nation waters.” Sokka snorted at that, flinging his open hands out at the ocean below.

“It’s the ocean. It only belongs to La and occasionally Tui, depending on if it’s a push or pull cycle. They don’t see the Earth Kingdom pulling those stunts! Or the Water Tribe!” The older boy was getting all heated again, and Zuko could just hear the cultural ridicule to come. Then Sokka took a deep breath and _firm-but-gentle-like_ smacked Zuko on the arm companionably.

“No offense to the rest of your country-men, but your military leaders, and consequently your _Fire Lord_, are _huge jerks_.” Zuko hadn’t been expecting that. He also found nothing to disagree with and shrugged in a way that perfectly said, ‘_what can you do about it_,’ without words. He was afraid he would shout _on reflex_ if he tried to speak, because _he hadn’t expected that_.

“Are we really flying over that?” Katara asked, and Aang got a determined set to his shoulders. Zuko preemptively gripped the saddle rim by slipping an arm through one of the built-in holes and _held on_. Appa picked up speed and barreled right on. No one threw any fireballs at them, but Zuko was naturally inclined towards paranoia. Which was why he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling along his spine.

(Breaking into the temple was just as ridiculously easy as breaking into the Earthbender prison had been. This was disappointing, and apparently, raised just as many questions. Zuko ignored all of them to expertly scale the next wall and disappear into a neat and unexpected vent that was tight but would have been just right months before. He hated that he’d be taller and wider soon. Being small was perfect for sneaking. He got them the rest of the way in, but they had no idea where to look for this room. It didn’t matter in the end -the Fire Sages found them.)

“It is our duty to protect the Avatar’s temple.” The Head Sage announced, looking ready to thrash them for sneaking in. (Not that it had been _hard to do_. Why didn’t they have better security?) Aang hesitantly shuffled his feet and flashed a _bright_, _beaming_, _let’s be friends_ smile.

“That’s great, I _am_ the Avatar. _You guys pass_!” The group of old men all exchanged a look, and then turned back to Aang slowly, as if they weren’t sure what to do with this information. Zuko felt like they were missing a lot of _subtext_ somewhere, because there was a meaningful silence, and now all the Sages were looking at _him and Uncle_, which wasn’t good. Slowly, the Head Sage stepped forward and motioned at Zuko.

“Show us your face, young man.” He said that so gently, Zuko was positive it was a dirty trap.

(Adults _not_ Uncle or Cook Zui, or Jee, or anyone on the _Wani_ that were nice to him always _wanted_ something. They usually never liked it when they got it.)

He hadn’t been going to respond at all, but he should have taken Aang into account when he made this plan.

“Zuko? The nice man who _isn’t _going to set us on fire and _might possibly_ take us to Roku would like to speak to you.” Aang hinted heavily, all while throwing Zuko to the Tiger Sharks. This is what he got for _having friends_. He should have reinforced the Earth Kingdom name rule _before_ they broke in.

The sages all gasped, and then there was the distinct sound of knees hitting the floor, and Zuko flinched as he turned in horror. _They were bowing on their knees_. Not at him. No. _Definitely not_ at him -he didn’t ever want anyone on their knees for _him_. He turned to look, and saw that Uncle was behind him, and he realized with _relief_ that they must have pieced together ‘_this is our banished prince_,’ with ‘_that can only be his Uncle, Agni’s chosen_.’ This was an immense relief. He subtly shifted so that Iroh could acknowledge them and Zuko could pretend like Sokka’s eyes weren’t _burning holes_ into them.

“Head Sage Rama, _please_. There is no need for that here. We have a very urgent mission -the Avatar _must_ speak to Roku, and we can waste no more time.” Iroh announced. The sages hesitated just briefly, and he felt Agni’s warmth swell in the room and brush over them each gently. This was as good as _confirmation_ for Zuko that everything he suspected and Iroh wouldn’t admit to was true.

The Sages _moved_ after that, leading them to the chamber with Roku’s statue hastily. Zuko very studiously ignored Sokka’s quiet _questions_ and _burning eyes_, and Aang’s _confused glances_ intermingled with Katara’s _curious apprehension_. Aang went into the room alone, which seemed right, and it shut with a slam without anyone ever touching it. Zuko wondered if that was spirit work or magic, and decided it was probably both. He wondered all this from the safety of a statue he _probably_ shouldn’t be sitting on, but _was_ sitting on, because Sokka was prowling next to the statue and _monologuing_ about friendship, and warrior bonding, and other things Zuko didn’t understand -like ‘_you can trust me with things, you know that right?_’ and ‘_I might yell a little because you’ve been keeping secrets but you’re my buddy! We bonded over swords!_’ because people who tried to tell him those things almost _always_ ended up changing their minds.

(And really, they bonded while beating each other up on Kyoshi, and again when Katara wanted to learn that scroll. And okay, they possibly bonded while fighting on the Prison ship. Also over their swords and training. But Zuko knew none of that would matter the instant Sokka found out who his father was. His father ruined everything.)

Iroh was talking quietly with the sages, with Katara using the sneaking skills he’d taught her to eavesdrop, and he could see how that was a _mistake_ now with how she turned to look at him wide-eyed. _Things were going great_.

And then the Fire Nation attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Came to my attention that I should post a PSA: my chapters are never completly finished when I post them because I work on them in my free time, which sometimes means I type on my phone. If I did them more .... Traditionally? I would't be able to do that, and I don't trust google docs not to EAT my docs. (It's done it before.) Sorry if this is confusing some of you, but all is well! My M.O. rn is Posting a big chunk of a chapter late at night or early in the morning, and finishing it by the next day, so if you want instantanious gratification, you can wait to read it till like, a day after it's posted. I usually leave a warning for where I am at the bottom of every chapter.


	9. Fair warning is good warning: part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS PLEASE (thank you)  
For those of you who didn't catch it last chapter, it came to my attention that I should post a PSA: my chapters are never completely finished when I post them because I work on them in my free time, which sometimes means I type on my phone. If I did them more .... Traditionally? I wouldn't be able to do that, and I don't trust google docs not to EAT my docs. (It's done it before.) Sorry if this is confusing some of you, but all is well! My M.O. rn is Posting a big chunk of a chapter late at night or early in the morning, and finishing it by the next day, so if you want instantaneous gratification, you can wait to read it till like, a day after it's posted. I usually leave a warning for where I am at the bottom of every chapter, and I'll be posting chapter status and in my header notes. Again, I'm sorry for the confusion!
> 
> Chapter status: COMPLETE

Aang watched a shadow of his former self manifest in the room, and it was _surreal_. Roku bowed to him in the traditional Fire Nation manner (he’d noted that a hundred years and a war had changed the way the Fire Nation bowed) and it was like being given another piece of his life _before_ the iceberg. He returned the gesture and tried to ignore the distant sound of _shouting_.

“_Aang. What took you so long?_” Aang wondered if he’d had such a clear sense of humor in every life.

Roku’s expression was serious in the next instant.

“_There is something we must discuss_.” Even his tone was serious, and Aang tried not to let it show that he was _nervous_ now.

“Is this about that _vision_? The comet streaking through the sky?” He asked, and Roku nodded gravely.

“_I have a story for you, one you must carry on your journey through this life_.”

He then preceded to alter what Aang had thought of as _simple fact_.

______

A Fire Sage charged into the room, looking _panicked_, and bowed formally at Uncle and the Head Sage. Zuko was grateful for the distraction, until a soft sound echoed through the halls. He was familiar with the sound of boots on polished stone, and he jumped from the statue in response, a knot in his stomach making him feel woozy.

“Commander Zhao is here!” The Sage announced breathlessly. Zuko hated _those words_ more than he hated _a lot of things_.

Uncle gave Zuko a look, and it was one he didn’t need translation for. He turned and scaled one of the carved pillars all the way to the ceiling, where he became a _shadow_. Iroh ordered Katara and Sokka behind him, and the Fire Sages took up defensive stances in front of the siblings. Then Zhao was there, smiling that smile Zuko hated.

(That smile reminded him of his father. _Not-right_ and _bad-happy_.)

“Ahhh. _General Iroh_. It appears you aren’t _insane_ or _dead_ after all.” The intentional ‘_yet’_ that rang through the brief silence had Zuko tensing. “But where is the _young Prince_? I see he’s done a _fine job_ of completing his father’s _orders_.” Zuko felt his gut clench and had to refrain from _throwing fire_ at the man below on _principle_.

(Zuko wasn’t following _anyone’s_ orders! He was doing _what was right_!)

Sokka and Katara both _flinched_ behind the sages, and Zhao caught it, because Zhao caught _everything_ that might be a _weakness_. Zuko had a _sneaking suspicion_ about where this conversation was _going_, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to come out of it. The _twisted_ smile on Zhao’s face said he was going to do everything he could to instill _doubt_ and _hatred_ with as few words as possible. Or maybe as many. He did like the sound of his own voice, and he had them _surrounded_. 

(Zhao was so confident that he was going to win today, he hadn’t intended to go through with Ozai’s plan, but on the _off chance_ that they did escape and took the Prince with them, he wanted them as _doubting_ as possible. He had no idea what trickery the Prince had used to become one of them, but he was _positive_ he’d just destroyed the story. This thought had him smiling even wider.)

Zhao’s men shuffled closer, and the siblings tensed. Katara had no water to _bend_, so she’d have to rely on the basic combat Zuko and Iroh had been teaching her, but Sokka pulled his club with intent, hoisting his boomerang in the other hand. Neither of them _looked up_, but he could see Sokka’s eye _twitching_ and his fast brain _thinking_. Katara was looking at Zhao like he’d just handed her a piece of unripe orange and _hadn’t told he_r it would be _sour_.

(Before Zhao did what Zuko _knew_ he was going to, he might have been able to wave away their _questions_ with the pathetic excuse that the rest of his family were _aristocrats_ in the Fire Nation, well respected by even their priests. Since this lie would be one that could _potentially_ save him from _a club to the back of the head_, he was reasonably certain he’d manage it. Now. _Now they would know_. He wasn’t sure what that would mean for the frien- for the _budding alliance_ between them.)

“Oh, _didn’t you know_?” His tone suggested he knew the answer. “The young man -whom I have_ no doubt _is here, General Iroh, thanks to that little stunt with the Earthbender prison- is the _Crown Prince_ of the Fire Nation. _Prince Zuko_, first son of Fire Lord Ozai, who was sent to _find_ the Avatar and _bring him home_ to his father. He’s done _a remarkable job_ gaining your trust, hasn’t he?”

Zhao smiled like a _Catagator_ that had just caught _the fattest Parakeet in the world_. Zuko listened to the sound of his own heart beating _erratically_ and his breath _hitching_. He_ really hated _Commander Zhao.

_______

"Well ... That's not _as bad_ as it could be, I guess."

Aang finally muttered, because he felt like he needed to say _something_. Roku blinked at him, then smiled softly. 

"You are most certainly an Airbender. Always finding the _positives_. My time here is almost done, and it appears that the young Prince needs help. I offer my assistance in this." Roku swept his arms to his sides, a kind of roll to his shoulders, and the day got _warmer_. But Aang wasn't focusing on the room or whatever Roku _meant_ by that. 

"_What Prince_?"

________

He probably shouldn't have let himself get _goaded_ so easily, but the instant they grabbed Katara and Sokka, then held flames to them _like they would sear half their faces off_, Zuko _moved_. He dropped from the well of shadows above like a snarling Pygmy Puma, and he went for the _eyes_ behind those masks. Sokka and Katara managed to get free only to get chained up to a pillar, and Uncle was surprising Zhao's forces with how _quickly_ he moved, and then Zhao grabbed for Zuko and the former Prince was _moving_. 

(It wasn't enough. He was _only_ thirteen and just building up substantial muscle mass, and they were _outnumbered_, even with the Sages trying to _help_. _Eventually_, Uncle couldn’t throw the men off himself fast enough. _Eventually_, there were two soldiers holding Zuko on his knees because he kept trying to stand, and Zhao stood over him smiling that _not-right_ smile. The temperature in the room started to _boil_.)

"I've been _dreaming_ about this moment for a year, young Prince. The only _glory_ won today will be _mine_ -I'm going to drag you back to our Fire Lord a _failure_ -because when the Avatar comes out of that temple, I _won't_ be _capturing_ him." His eyes flickered only once to Sokka and Katara, and Zuko knew the following words were deliberately said for _them_. “You never should have been _entrusted_ to this mission in the first place. It takes _real men_ to bring _glory_ to our nation.”

Zuko tried to stand again and Zhao smirked when he forced back down.

“Prepare for the Avatar.” He ordered, and Zuko could feel that slow bubbling panic in his gut foaming over until it felt like it was in his _bloodstream_. 

(Zuko could see it now. He knew Aang would fight, would try to evade and _talk peace_, or evade and be _clever_, but there were dozens of Firebenders here. The Avatar might possibly die today, and Zuko couldn't let that _happen_. He was speaking without _processing_ the words.)

"You can't _kill_ the Avatar. He _lives on_, life after life Zhao. Killing him here would only send his spirit to the next part of the cycle." He growled, trying again to jerk free. If he kept Zhao distracted, maybe something would happen. Maybe for once, his luck would decide _not_ to roll the dice on him.

Zhao stood still, considering, and then he smirked at Zuko _all wrong_. 

"_You're right_, Prince Zuko. We can't have the cycle _continuing_, can we?" 

(Of course, his luck had _already_ rolled the dice. Zuko could see whatever Zhao was adding to his plans would be terrible.)

"_Naturally_ we'll have to do to the Northern Water Tribe _what we did_ _to the South_."

That wasn't what Zuko had meant at all, but he didn't get to say that because suddenly Zhao was speaking again as he moved.

“It always bothered me that only one side got harmed. Asymmetry is vexing. Perhaps we should fix that here.” his hand was in flames, and he was _reaching for Zuko’s face and he saw the not-right glint in his father’s eyes as flesh-_

(Zuko _screamed_ and tried to move away -and for an instant, the guards holding him realized how _wrong_ this was. But they didn’t let go. Agni _raged_ in his domain, because they weren’t learning at all. Sokka and Katara were screaming too. Things Zuko _couldn’t_ and _didn’t_ hear, because he was watching from a _haze_ of fear and cold remembrance. No one realized that Zhao’s fire lost some of its flare and life, because something else drew their attention before fire could touch skin.)

The door to the temple was opening and there was _weird mist_ spilling out. Zhao gave the order to _fire_, and everyone did. Or rather, everyone _tried to_. Their flames came out as _weak puffs_, their inner fires gone _dim and cold_.

(Agni had seen _enough_ of watching his people _destroy children_.)

In the middle of that mist stood _Avatar Roku_. He took in the scene before him and roared in _rage_.

(Beneath this was a secondary roar no one head because they were all busy looking at Roku. Iroh used this opportunity to melt the chains they’d tried to bind him with and go to Zuko. His Nephew looked pale and lost, watching Roku with hazed eyes. Iroh felt no guilt in using his fires against the men holding the boy. They deserved any pain he caused.)

Fire licked between Roku’s teeth, and then there were _waves_ of searing flames aimed at every soldier _doing nothing_ but watching. The ground was _shaking_ and _splitting_, and Roku spit flames, and then willed heat and magma through the cracks deep beneath them. Agni _watched_. Until the very last of his strength for this horizon was spent, he _watched_ and _made sure_ that the Avatar had Zhao running. He walked onto the next horizon in a _rage_, and it was the hottest morning Be Sing Se ever had.

________

Zuko isn’t sure _how_ they get on Appa’s back. He isn’t sure _why_ he’s on Appa’s back. He only knows that _Sokka_ is flying the bison, and _Aang_ is shaking at the front, and _Katara_ is watching him with the _strangest expression_. (It’s an expression he _knows_. He just can’t remember what it is. Uncle gave it to him a lot when they first went to sea.) He knows that it’s _Uncles_ warm, wide hand he’s gripping like a lifeline in a storm. He knows that he hasn’t seen father in over a year, and that there was _no way_ he was in that temple ready to _finish_ what he’d _started_ at the Agni Kai.

(He _knows_ but he still can’t make himself _not tremble_. He knows but he still ends up curling into Uncle and _trying not to cry_. He’d thought he was over the fear of fire, but apparently, it had only been waiting for the opportune moment to _kick him in the gut_.)

Uncle holds him without comment and they both pretend that his shoulders aren’t shaking. He isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but he dreams again of red, angry flames, desperate for a _snack_. He’s consumed by them over and over again while his father laughs. He wakes to find that they’ve landed _somewhere_, near the coast -he could hear the sea- but _concealed_.

Uncle was speaking nearby, but his words were too soft for even Zuko’s hearing. He was okay with that. He sat up slowly and scrubbed at his face. No telling moisture, so at least he hadn’t been _crying_. Eventually, he stood -someone had laid out his bedroll and then tucked him into it- and _tidied_. When he had nothing else to do with his hands, he went looking for Uncle.

(He was probably with the Avatar and the Water Tribe siblings. That was good. It was best for all of them if they got this out of the way. He’d ask Agni to help them find a _better-suited_ helper from the Fire Nation. He was sure he and Uncle couldn’t be the only ones that saw all the problems.)

He found everyone he expected to find in a small clearing a good distance from the camp -close, but not _hearing-range_ close, and probably within sight if you sat where Uncle was, on that boulder. There was a soft, small fire burning in the middle, because it wasn’t dawn yet. Sokka had been _pacing_ when Zuko walked into the clearing, but he stopped dead when he realized Zuko was there. Katara was playing with a bowl of water thoughtfully, a _sister-scowl_ on her face, and Aang was _fluttering_ from one person to the other, hovering and then moving again. The former Prince walked quietly to Uncles side and slowly sat at his back, his face turned towards the woods and sounds of waves beyond. He could feel their eyes on him, but he would not be breaking this silence.

(All he had in him right now was _shouting_, and he was sure that wouldn’t be appropriate.)

Aang was the one who finally broke the silence.

“Um, Zuko. I know that this is going to be hard but … well, I think it would be _better_ if we heard everything from _you_. Could you -_no_\- I _need_ you to be honest with us now. Uncle Iroh said you aren’t _exactly_ a Prince anymore, but I want _you_ to tell us _why_.” Zuko took care in counting his breaths and croaked out a single, hard word. (This alone told him he’d probably been shouting in his sleep.)

“_Why_.” He repeated and managed to make it sound like a question _without_ being a shout. Aang understood. He’d always been good at reading Zuko’s subtext.

“Why it is you ended up _at sea_, not _technically_ a Prince. Why _whatever_ it is that happened made you _reconsider_ how good the Fire Lord was for _your people_. Why you didn’t _tell us_, even when Agni _himself_ vouched for you.” Aang specified, very _direct_ and _matter-of-fact_.

Zuko wished that it was _daylight_ and not pre-dawn, so that he could close his eyes and feel Agni’s comfort on his skin. He settled for leaning back into Uncle and taking several deep breaths. Since Aang had asked for the _truth_, he started at the _beginning_.

“The reason I was _banished_ all started with the Forty-first regiment of recruits.”

____

“What? Of course, my father _did this_! It was technically his _right_ as the winner of the _forfeited_ match to _punish_ the loser however he wanted- _why are you crying!_” He learned quickly it was impossible not to shout while speaking about these things.

____

“Being honest, I didn’t really care about _finding_ you at first. I was in too much _pain_ and plagued by nightmares. It wasn’t until Uncle took me to the Western Air Temple that I realized how many _inconsistencies_ were being fed to the people.”

Aang rose his hand and Zuko growled at him from over Iroh’s shoulder. He’d learned to watch the Air Bender or he might spontaneously try to _hug him_.

“What … _what_ did you see there to make you realize that?” There was a healthy amount of fear in that voice.

“A pile of children’s bones.” Was perhaps the wrong answer to give, because then he was _crying_ again. Zuko was thinking that he might need to _moderate_ his honesty.

____

“I wouldn’t have _killed_ you in your sleep!” Sokka protested. It was a weak protest in Zuko’s eyes.

“You spent our _every waking moment_ until _Kyoshi_, nearly a _week_ later, casually mentioning how _little_ you thought of my people and how it was your _expert opinion_ that we should all be _executed_ for our crimes against humanity.” He pointed all this out while maintaining eye contact. Sokka, he knew, was the type that _only_ understood direct, _logical_ points. The Water Tribe warrior was _quiet_ for a moment before he sheepishly shrugged.

“Fair point. Please continue.”

____

Zuko was _done_ sharing after he hit all the points Aang had asked him to address. He leaned back on Uncle and _crossed his arms_, and _didn’t look_ at any of them, because he wasn’t sure what kind of face he was making. (But he was sure it wasn’t good because he felt nauseous.)

“I know that was hard but thank you,” Aang whispered into the silence, then he cleared his throat and helpfully took the attention away from Zuko.

“It’s _my turn_ to share! What I have to say is … well, a little _weird_, but also apparently Fire Nation history? Sokka! _Don’t walk away_! This is _important_.” A heartbeat of grumbling before Aang continued. “So a super long time ago, Agni fell in love with this comet, and she -or he? Roku wasn’t specific- fell in love with Agni. A pact was made that roughly every hundred years his _comet spouse_ would make a return trip across the void to be with Agni for a full turn of the Earth. Traditionally the comet spirit’s name is Teirazuko, but the Fire Nation tended to just call it the Lovers Comet.” Sokka started making ‘bored now,’ noises, and Zuko let himself glance back to watch Aang glare the other boy into silence and then continue.

“The _major point_ here is that Teirazuko makes Agni’s heart burn _so bright_ with love, his people’s abilities increase a _thousand-fold_. Having one soldier becomes the equivalent of having ten or more. It’s when the Fire Nation is at its most _powerful_, and _approximately_ a hundred years ago, it’s what the Fire Nation used to wipe out my people. Roku told me that it’s _coming again_. It may not be _this_ year -he said it was never _exact_, that it seemed like there were centuries it was _on time_, and others it was _late_, but it will be _soon_.”

There was a dead silence then, and Zuko _completely_ lost control of his breathing. The campfire wanted to flare, but Iroh had hold of it, and Zuko let himself breath badly for a few minutes. Also _pace_. And _growl in frustration_, and overall, _react badly_ to the news that ‘_oh hey_, a comet your ancestors used to _kill an entire nation of people_ is going to be coming back around _soon-ish_.’

“We need a plan.” He eventually growled. When no one offered anything, he took a deep breath and forced the words that had been sitting on his tongue out.

“Look, I _know_ you probably aren’t comfortable with _traveling_ with me any longer, and that’s _fine_. I’ll see if somehow, we can contact Agni and lead you to _someone else_, someone worthy, someone who feels the _same way_ Uncle and I do. But _first_, you need a plan for how you’re going to _handle this_, and I should know so that I can _help_ from the Earth Kingdom. It can’t be _that hard_ to start a rebellion against the Fire Nation. So first you-” Aang _hugged_ him.

Katara was there in the next instant, growling as she got in on the hug, and Sokka _very slowly_ approached, then wrapped his arms around _all three of them_. Zuko looked to Uncle for help, but the older man just _smiled_ and _nodded_, and pretended like his Nephew wasn’t extremely _uncomfortable_. It’s what he deserved for thinking he wasn’t worthy of something he wanted.

(When Agni rose, he rose to the sight of his Chosen _yelling_ and _flustered_ as the Avatar clung to him like a Koala Monkey. The Waterbender was shouting something _back_ at him, while her brother nodded along. Agni settled slightly. His Chosen was _well_, and _whole_, and surrounded by people that _saw him_. There was no need to let his anger fester this day.)

________

Zhao hadn’t been able to catch all the Fire Sages. Some of the treasonous bastards had simply disappeared, and he made sure to note descriptions and any names in his letter the Fire Lord Ozai. He also included everything he’d seen between the Prince and the Water Tribe savages he was traveling with. Iroh, he’d barely gotten a look at -he’d been pinned rather nicely under several of Zhao’s men. He’d already requested that they submit any relevant details they remembered to him.

In the back of his mind buzzed a thought. It was something the Banished Prince had said about the Avatar’s cycle. About how life went on for the Avatar always. He wondered what it would take to kill an entire people without the use of Sozin’s comet.

(He played with many ideas, but the real answer to that wouldn’t come till much later.)

________

They stayed in their make-shift camp for several days before moving on. They all needed time to adjust to new information given, and while Katara and Sokka treated him different, it wasn’t worse. It was more like … _begrudged acceptance_ (Sokka) and _recognition_ (Katara) and while he got a few jokes thrown at him, it wasn’t anything meant to make him _bleed_. Aang was the _least_ affected by the news that he was a former prince. (But then, Nomads had notoriously not cared for status or wealth.) The night before they’d left, Sokka had unexpectedly took him aside and they’d spoken quietly about _swords_ and _training_, fighting styles and the pros and cons of Fire Nation steel versus Earth Kingdom iron. At the end of it, the older boy had quietly told him that it was going to take him a bit to get over the fact that Zuko had _purposefully concealed_ something, but that he had seen for himself that Zuko was distinctly ‘_un-Fire Nationy. Except when he did the bowing thing_.’ And Zuko figured that was about as _mushy_ as either of them was ever going to get about it. He was grateful for this, because Aang and Katara seemed _determined_ to _break what remained of his spirits with **hugs**_.

(Not that he tried _very_ hard to get out of them. It was the principle of the thing though. If he didn’t _complain_ about it, Sokka would make fun of him _a lot_ before he finally joined in the hugging.)

They needed supplies so desperately, Zuko caved to the other's insistence that they stop in a port town that screamed _shady_ to Zuko. Unfortunately, beggars couldn’t be choosers. They _reinforced_ the use of Earth Kingdom names, and _everyone that needed to_ donned conical hats before they took a vote and split up. Iroh and Sokka went in search of a Pai Sho game they could bet on (Or win), and Aang, Katara and Zuko went to find the supplies they needed. They managed to eke buy with the money they had, and if either he or Katara had been paying better attention, Aang probably wouldn’t have managed to waste some on that stupid whistle.

(Much, much later, he’d be grateful that the monk was so _slippery_, and recognized the whistle for _what it was_.)

They met up with Iroh and Sokka, who looked both guilty and highly amused, and found that the two had made a _killing_ in several Pai Sho matches. (Because Sokka would make a small bet on Iroh and then loudly convince everyone that it was the worst mistake he’d ever made. How they got away with this for three rounds was beyond Zuko, especially given where they were. But apparently, they now had a little more spending money for the pot.)

They were just about done getting supplies when Iroh and Aang made excited noises over a slummy ship that Iroh swore was some kind of shop. Zuko only had to take one look to recognize his _mortal enemies_. _Pirates_.

(That first time as the blue spirit _wasn’t_ the first time that their _breed of irritating_ had messed up a _perfectly good plan_, and he knew it wouldn’t be the _last_.)

He tried to warn the rest of the group quietly, but Sokka and Katara seemed content to be drug along, and Uncle Iroh wasn’t listening -and here he didn’t try _too hard_ because he didn’t want Uncle _knowing_ how he could instantaneously recognize a pirate ship at a glance. So instead, he crossed his arms and tried to keep his uncle from spending _unnecessary_ money on these _hooligans_.

Aang was refusing every offer and counter-offer the Pirates tried to make him over Momo, and Katara was making sounds by the scrolls while Sokka _suspiciously_ poked around. Zuko was betting the older boy would catch on before Aang or Katara. That was when he saw _them_. It was the most heart-rending thing he’d seen since those _children’s bones_ in the Western and Southern air temples. It made him _hate_ the pirates even more than he thought he could.

Laying in a cage, looking poorly cared for and sick, a Crowned Bearded Serval wheezed weakly as it curled around several kits. Zuko counted three, then spied an egg laying just outside the adults’ paws. The Crowned Bearded Serval was a creature local to the Fire Nation, and they were endangered because their fur and feathers were heat resistant, and at the beginning of the war, every Earth Kingdom noble wanted to be heat resistant.

(And some Fire Nation nobles. They didn’t need to be heat resistant but having leather armor that wouldn’t burn off was nice.)

These days, he heard that if they weren’t killed for their pelts, they died as exotic pets in the Earth Kingdom. While people knew of them and could recognize them -they were an apex predator that tended to migrate if they felt that their cliff-side nests wouldn’t be warm enough for offspring- there wasn’t a lot known about them. Mostly because as soon as they were trapped they were killed. _This_ was … _so incredibly wrong_. Zuko stood there in front of that cage for a long time while Uncle and the rest shuffled around, and when the Pirate with the Iguana Parrot (Probably the Captain) walked up and crowed over their capture.

“The adult _already_ has a buyer, as do the kits, but if you’re interested, I could slip you one of the kits and say it _died_. _For a price_.” Zuko wanted to punch him in his smiling face. It was likely good fortune that Iroh came up when he did. He took the subtle cue his Uncle gave him and turned to _walk-not-march_ to Katara’s side. She talked at him quietly about the scroll, and he knew she wanted it almost as badly as he wanted to burn this ship until it was ash.

(When they got kicked off, he stopped her from slipping that scroll into her robes, subtly shaking his head and making _later_ motions. When _later_ came, he had a proposition for her. She agreed with a _wicked_ smile he was wise enough to _mistrust_. She admitted to him quietly, after dinner and they had _snuck away_, that she wanted the scroll more because it was part of her _culture_ and they’d _taken it_ like they had _every right_. He could do nothing but nod mutely, thinking of those _kits_ and that _mother_ that were all _dying_ because they were _too cold_ and _too hungry_.)

Later came, and it was good to be the Blue Spirit again. There was nothing like _smoked Pirate_ for a midnight snack.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology for the confusion, I've added some sketches to the end of this chapter.


	10. Ashes on the wind (free at last)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have agonized. I have toiled. There were two ways this could have gone. Guess which way I went. 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance!  
Note: I really loved how MuffinLance wrote Momo's (and actually all her animals) perspective in Little Zuko v the World, so parts of this chapter are heavily inspired by that. (If you haven't read her yet, please do.)
> 
> Chapter Status: COMPLETE

The shadows were still, _lifeless_. The port was _quiet_ where it counted, _riotous_ exactly where Zuko knew it would be. He'd counted the pirates lazing or patrolling the deck, and a quick, soundless visit from their hiding space to the bar a little further inland proved that probably half the pirates were accounted for _on_ the ship. He'd only seen the two -no, _three_, there had been one doing _something_ above deck earlier- when they'd been in the shop, but looking at the _ship_, there couldn't be more than a dozen or _fewer_ men for the crew. He nodded to Katara where she could see, and they initiated _phase two_ of their plan. Phase one, they'd already set in motion.

(He'd found that gossip rings in every port were the _same_. A whisper here and a well-placed slip of the tongue there, and soon everyone knew. Pirates tended to the same behaviors too. If they'd timed it right, by now some drunk idiot was telling an _equally drunk_ pirate that the new ship that had pulled into port at early evening _also_ had a Crowned Serval, but _thiers_ was moving around and not _half dead_. The pirates, _being pirates_, would get it into their heads to do some _high-risk trading_. He was right. The pirates in the bar did in fact take matters into their own hands and head towards the _opposite_ side of the port. They would be gone a while.)

Zuko adjusted his mask and Katara adjusted _hers_, a mask in paler blue with large frontal tusks and four eyes and near-black hair along the sides. Zuko didn't recognize what it was from, because it was a less well known Water Tribe spirit -they'd requisitioned it from another store down the street because the storekeeper had tried to steal Katara's necklace as they left earlier- and he didn't really care. He made sure the black cloak she was using in place of sneaking clothes (He'd have to remember to get her some) and nodded. 

They became _shadows_ and played Zuko's favorite game of '_how well can I be a shadow while standing right in front of you?_' Katara played too, but she wasn't as adept as him -twelve years in a palace where your father could be lurking anywhere made you a master- but she was better than average because she was equally as determined. (It must be a _little sister thing_. The only other person he'd met that could keep up with him was Lala.) They knew what their targets were, and where they were going once they had them -a pulley kart, one that didn't squeak, carefully concealed in the shadows just past the ship- but the real mystery was how much else they needed to steal to muddy the waters. He really wished it were a foggy night. He'd said as much to Katara as they were getting ready, just as Agni was beginning to sink and Tui was beginning to rise.

(Tui had heard. She'd _smiled-snarled_ as her brother whispered about what _their children_ were doing and why. Zuko didn't know it yet, but he was _getting his fog_.)

They made it to the base of the ship, quiet and still and like living shadows under the hazy moonlight -it was forecast tonight, wasn't it?- and Zuko prepared to scale the dark side of the ship when the fog just. _Rolled in_. It was like a shroud, or gauzy curtains suddenly closing around them. The pirate on guard duty above started cursing and fruitlessly lit a lantern. Zuko felt the flare of heat, felt it try to penetrate the soupy air, and he subtly dimmed it. He wasn't sure _why_ there was a fog, but he was_ very grateful_ for it. 

(It was also startling that he could turn and instantly see Katara in it. Like they each had a bubble of space where the fog couldn't go. He tilted his head and she nodded. Phase two was still in motion, and now _they had fog_.)

When they slipped into the 'shop' portion of the ship, the fog came with them, spilling through the doorway and every crack, filling the space completely. Zuko headed for the cage in the corner, and the _idiots_ hadn't even _covered it_, how was a Crowned Beared Serval supposed to _survive_ if it was _cold_? Zuko detoured to find some blankets or rugs. They needed it to be comfortable when they saved it after all. He initated Phase three, and he was sure Katara was doing the same.

\------

Katara went straight for the scrolls. She marched right up to them, only pausing long enough to swipe up a pale leather bag that she also intended to steal back from the pirates, and then she _shoved_ _every scroll_ she could reach into it. She'd _had_ it with this town. _First_, they _overcharged_ her for squash, then it was the _propositions_ she hadn't understood until_ Zuko started getting mad_, and then it was the _pirates_, and that _stupid old lady_ that tried to take her _mother's necklace_! She moved down the wall and swiped up a weird monkey statue with ruby eyes -real or fake, who could say?- then she swiped what looked like a _war fan_ -Sokka would love that- and then she was carefully sneaking over a small counter to look at the jewelry on display. 

She swiped a red and orange string of pearls and a _beautiful bracelet_ that was _distinctly water tribe_. She didn't see anything else she could easily grab from the jewelry stand. She was getting ready to hop back over the counter and pilfer her way towards Zuko when they caught her eye. The items were water tribe, she was _sure_, but she'd never seen anything like them before in her _life_. Two pieces, probably weapons, perfectly matching, except mirrored, and she thought maybe they went on hands, but _she_ _wasn't sure because men like these pirates kept stealing pieces of her culture_.

There were smooth-looking handholds combined with soft-looking leather straps to wrap around a wrist and fingers like a glove almost(probably, she was _assuming_. Sokka or Iroh might know.) There were three blades attached, and when Katara experementally sliped one over her hand, they looked like claws coming from her knuckles. They were beautiful, and practically perfect. She swiped them because the inlay design in the shape of waves was beautiful, and they were carved so carefully, and they were _part of her culture_. They didn't belong on some _collector's_ wall, and she was sure she would put them to good use once she found what they were.

She lifted a couple of other things on her way to Zuko, saw what he was doing with the blankets, and quickly moved to help. She tried not to be _unnerved_ by the dangerous animal they were about to uncage. This Serval creature was ...odd. Large enough that it likely stood just above Katara's knees when it stood, it's front was the shape of a large _spotted-stripped_ feline -with _humongous_ ears. Not Momo huge, she didn't think, but _huge;_ it probably had fantastic hearing. There were soft-looking feathers growing over its eyes like eyebrows and racing towards the crow of its head, where they spread up the ears and if she tilted her head, it _did_ look crowned.

Its forelimbs were _disproportionately_ long, and its chest looked covered in a fine layer of heavy feathers -and she couldn't tell, but it's throat looked a little too wide. She couldn't see its _hindlimbs_, but the kits curled up and shivering between its paws had bird-like-claws and a short tail with baby feathers growing on it. If she squinted, she also saw a beard-like shape in the feathers coming off the adults chin. It had wings, and they probably should have looked _impressive_, but they looked ...sad, and mangled like one had probably been broken and never _set right_. 

(She hoped it was just the _fog_ and _poor lighting_, because if it couldn't fly, if it was _ruined_, Zuko would be upset in that quiet, broody way he tended to get upset. He would probably shout and walk away from them to deal with his sadness by physically _destroying_ his body in the makeshift training area. She hadn't understood that first week they knew each other how _emotionally repressed_ Zuko was, or she might have gone _softer_ on him from the start.) 

The _Serval_ (Even thinking her full species name was too much) whined and _hissed_ at them when they opened the cage. A man somewhere above shouted something that sounded like '_Keep it down you mangey cat!_' but did not come to check and Zuko tensed. The air around them got suddenly warmer when he breathed out deeply. He was using his Breath of Fire to warm the air substantially, and the feline looked at them with wild, _intelligent_ eyes. (_Hungry eyes_. She looked _starved_.) Zuko breathed warmth into the air three more times before she stopped hissing when he reached for her. He was very careful in reaching out, breathing that warmth until he was steaming next to her. He didn't touch. He gave the wild, slightly broken animal the _choice_. She whined one last time and nuzzled into his palm desperately, shivering like it was an arctic winter and not a _mildly cold spring_. 

(It was ridiculously easy to get the animal and her kits rolled up into the cocoon of blankets provided. All Zuko had to do was touch them and they melted and leaned towards him desperately. Zuko leaned into the cage and plucked up the egg that hadn't hatched, tucking it carefully into his robes. Katara might have asked why if she didn't know Zuko.) 

They initiated the fourth and _final_ phase of their plan by sneaking out carefully, shrouded in fog, and Katara forced herself to breathe through the exercise she didn't know she'd be getting. Starved or not, the Serval was heavy, and her kits kept trying to crawl towards Zuko, so their process was painstakingly slow. That was alright. She could feel the ocean at her back, a wild push-pull that watched over them, and she knew they'd get the time they needed. When they did make it to the small pulley they'd acquired (with some intention of returning) Zuko set himself up to push. But not before he turned back in the direction of the ship and breathed deeply ... then threw a fireball. It hit. She could see the flames start through the fog. A pirate started cursing loudly on deck, and then howling, and Katara got the feeling he'd tried to put it out wrong. She didn't argue with Zuko's _slightly uncharacteristic_ decision to throw fire. There was a mangled creature in their cart that might die soon, and there was no reason for it to be mangled. Besides, if memory served, he'd _aimed for_ and _hit_ the lantern that the pirate had set up. It would be a small fire, and nothing less than they deserved. _Pirates_.

(They left the town the same way they'd entered, _like shadows_. Unfortunately, the fog stopped following them halfway through the town. Just before they entered the woods, the Serval whined _loudly_. They didn't know until later that an older woman looked out her window to see two _dark spirits_ making away from the town into the woods with a cart that made _strange noises_. The pirates that were even then _stumbling_ towards the _slightly singed_ ship with _fresh stolen_ loot and blood on their weapons would soon _question_ this woman. But that was _later_. First, they tried to figure out _how_ the ship had gotten on fire, and _why_ there was fog floating lazily and dispersing _only in their area_.)

______

Iroh was _understandably upset_ when he woke much sooner than he expected to because something in the camp was _screeching sadly_. This was his _first_ indication that his day would be hard. His second was rolling out of his bedroll to see Zuko and Katara, _in dark garb_, _cooing_ at the Serval that they'd seen on the Pirates ship the day before. It only got worse from there. The mother was hurt badly; a mangled wing, malnourished -which meant she was smaller than an adult with kits _should be_, and worst of all -she was freezing.

(Aang woke the next time she trilled sadly and set about _helping_ and _worrying_ about the _morals_ of stealing from pirates all at once. Sokka, to no one's surprise, only grumbled in his sleep and rolled his sleeping bag further away from them.)

Iroh had only ever seen these creatures from afar, but he knew enough _basic_ things about them. They required _warmth_ to live, had their own inner fires, and if that inner fire went out ... there would be no _rekindling_ it. This adult's fire was going out. It was good that his Nephew had put thought into ways to _keep it lit_. While Iroh kept the adult and kits warm, Zuko gathered together several large stones -Appa had looked at him in _confusion_ when Zuko had coaxed the bison into positioning them, but _bribes_ of _sweet fruits_ went a long way in earning the bisons assistance- and then draped a heavy rug and several blankets over it a roof, held up by a series of stones atop it. Momo had settled on one of those stones, looking on in fear and fascination both. 

(The conversation about _where_ those heavy draperies came from left him feeling like he needed a calming cup of tea. Not fire whiskey. _Tea_. He hadn't touched fire whiskey since Lu Ten's death, and he'd sworn he never would again. His second son's _clearly loose morals_ when it came to _pirates_ would _not_ be the thing that drove him back.)

Zuko took some of the coal kindling from their own campfire and lined the bottom of this den-like structure, then lit it aflame. It burned bright for several minutes, and he watched with _pride_ while Zuko breathed it down to _dim-searing coals_, lit softly from within. The mother crawled inside _cautiously_, her short, feathered tail flickering with suspicion, but when no bars were slammed down around her, she rolled into the warm coals and let out a sound that needed no translation. It was _sad_ and _joyful_, filled with _longing and pain_. The kits, eyes crusted over from infection, breathing weak, gave similar sounds when Zuko set them gently between the mothers' paws. 

(After Katara finally walked away, having been told in no uncertain terms that she was hovering by Zuko, he watched his Nephew carefully pull a creamy egg from his robes and carefully bury it in the coals. He placed it nearer the warm rock walls, so it wouldn't be jostled by the adult, and Iroh knew that even if it seemed hopeless to have tried, his Nephew still would have done so. It wasn't in his nature to give up.)

Sokka had finally woken, and he set about _loudly_ proclaiming that Zuko and Katara arguably did a lot of stupid things (like play with _magic_) but that _this_ had been the stupidest. He probably would have kept proclaiming such things if young Katara hadn't thrown a metal war fin in brushed steel at the young man's face. Afterward, he quietly went through everything his sister had swiped and made noises over the weapons Katara had adamantly refused to let him touch. It had been several years since Iroh had seen Bagh Nakh claws, but he could tell he would have to scrounge up memories of how they were used from the possessive glint in Katara's eyes.

Zuko was using a scrap of cloth and warmed water to try and gently clean the kits eyes, and the mother watched him weakly. Iroh let his Nephew take first watch for these creatures, and went _hunting_. Carnivores needed fresh meat, and one should never let an apex predator go _hungry_, no matter how injured. _Lemurs_ would be the first thing that went missing, and then _fingers_.

(She wanted to gorge, but they set up a feeding schedule. Small pieces of a meal for her and her kits every couple hours. They were well concealed in these woods, so there was no rush to move just yet. His Nephew swore that no one saw them, so Iroh allowed this. They couldn't risk moving the mother anyway, she was too weak, and even if the heat of the coals was helping, he could feel her inner fire flickering with indecision.)

The first day was nice and warm, and Zuko had to be _forced_ to go to sleep and eat, and Iroh took over caring for his Nephews _high-risk acquisition_. Momo kept him company, dropping offerings of foraged fruits and nuts by the den entrance, and when they weren't eaten, a field mouse ended up the next offering. Iroh found this particular, but accepted it.

(Lemurs were more intelligent than most thought. Momo was, in his own way, trying to help. Even if it did look like bribery.)

The mother stayed the same for several days, though the kits showed slow improvement. Even when the infection was carefully cleaned from their eyes, they couldn't seem to _open_ them, and Iroh worried about that. A blind predator had a much harder life than other predators -if the infection had taken hold in the eye itself ... They would cross those waters when they got to that shore.

(Then, of course, the Pirates attacked the fourth day. Iroh didn't have time for worrying about all these things while he was trying to protect the children under his care.)

______

The pirates used _smoke bombs_. This was both _cool_ and _infuriating_, and Zuko made sure to steal some on _principle_ when he knocked out his most recent target. He heard the distinct sound of rushing water, and then a _snap_ of sound before someone started howling, and was abruptly cut off with a _thunk_.

"_See_! This is _exactly_ what I was talking about!" Sokka yelled somewhere in the smoke, and Zuko growled in response before he swiftly moved position. He ran straight into the captain of the pirates, and the man _snarled_ at him.

"No one _steals_ from me!" was a ridiculous thing to say, because he stole from _everyone_. 

(And it wasn't _stealing_ if he'd been _freeing_ something that wasn't meant to be caged. Wild things needed to breathe fresh air to live, and Zuko knew from experience that being in a cage sucked all the air out of you. Alright, so _maybe_ Katara's spiteful sticky fingers hadn't been _entirely necessary_, but she was a _sister_. How was he supposed to _control_ that?)

Zuko bared his teeth in response to the man's stupid statement, and then they were _moving_. One sword versus two dao, but they were evenly matched because Zuko was smaller and didn't have as much power to his swings yet. He made up for the lack of power by being _extra dexterous_. No one had ever taught this man how to properly adjust his stances, or Zuko never would have been able to swing underneath his feet and get behind him for that slice to his thigh.

Somewhere beyond the smoke, a by now familiar, _shrill_ sound echoed through the smoke and the pirate turned to him with a _smirk_. If Zuko hadn't grown up with _not-right-happy smiles_ worse than that smirk, he might have let himself get shaken. As it was, he was only _increasingly furious_. He increased his efforts to wipe the stupid smirk off the man's face. 

____

Momo _viciously attacked_ the first fool to come toward the den of the injured Danger! Predator! that had been brought into the group nest. _He-that-was-loud-always_ assisted in downing this foe. When his vicious enemy _Bird-claws-and-scales-smelt-like-anger_ appeared, he was not afraid. There were hatchlings below him, and they may not have been his, but he would not let other Danger! Predators! touch them. He fought against the _Bird-claws-and-scales-smelt-like-anger_ Predator! and won by being _clever_, then returned to his protective roost-on-top-of-den. 

When multiple Danger! Bipeds! walked towards him with teeth bared and extended-sharp-claws-that-hurt, he knew he would b no match for them alone. He screeched a call that would have had a whole flock winging with him, if this were a proper nesting ground, but alas, _Fluffy-flying-shape-of-cloud friend_ was the only one who responded. Momo dove for the exposed fleshy eyes of the first, but did not see what happened to the others. He only heard the shrill sound of a Danger! Predator! defending her nest and knew that something bad had happened. He didn't speak the _mother-of-hatchlings_ tongue, but dying needed no translation.

____

In the end, Uncle Iroh started _breathing fire_, and Katara pulled the water from the river and used it to trip up half of the pirates. Aang used his staff to create gale-force winds and knock them into the flowing river beyond. Sokka was making use of the fan skills Suki had taught him, and the captain got knocked down and out because no one had ever told him to _protect his ankles_. Zuko didn't bother checking to make sure he was truly out, he just ran for the make-shift den while Katara and Aang made sure _every_ pirate ended up in the river. 

(And from there, unknown to them, La and his children of the sea took immense satisfaction in dealing with the foolish humans to get in the way of the Avatar and his companions. Hadn't spent a _hundred years_ guarding the boy's sleeping figure to lose him to _pirates_ of all things.)

Uncle caught Zuko before he could get in view of the mother and kits, and tried to hold him back. This was all he needed to let him know things were _not okay_. He surged forwards regardless, then froze midstep when he saw her. There was a pirate sprawled face down, and it looked like something had latched onto his throat. Two of the kits lay outside the den, with the third just barely inside the safety of the coals, as still as their mother. A mother that had a _knife_ in her chest. He wasn't sure when he got on his knees in front of them, only that suddenly he was there and breathing _very_ wrong. The two larger kits were the ones laying just outside the den, like they'd been grabbed and then dropped roughly. They probably _had_ been.

(The mother, whom he'd quietly called Mango Cake, because her eyes were the exact shade of yellow as the rich sweet, had just barley tolerated _Zuko_ handling them. Having one of her former captures touch them would have had her protective instincts in overdrive. It was only natural she'd gone for the mans most vulnerable point. He hadn't needed to _kill her_. She had just been _protecting her kits_.) 

He hadn't been aware that he was crying until Uncle was soothing as his hair, saying soft things like '_This wasn't your fault. You did her a kindness, Nephew. She died on her terms and free._' and he realized that he'd been quietly apologizing to the lifeless animals. A set of arms startled him, but he allowed Aang the hug, because he _really needed it_. Katara was carefully picking up the third kit, so very gently. There was something wrong with its back leg, it looked like, but Katara looked starkly _relieved_. Then she turned to the coals and plucked something out of them, holding it carefully in a cloth. She brought both the kit and the clothed bundle to him, and carefully crouched at his side. 

"Zuko._ Look._" He looked, saw the rise and fall of the runts' sides and was so grateful that whatever had happened, it was only slightly injured. Then he looked to what she'd plucked from the coals -the egg, formerly creamy yellow, it looked singed around the edges, like a Fried Dumpling, and it _wobbled_ softly before it _squeaked_-

"What?" He croaked, carefully reaching for the egg. Katara placed it in his hands, then set about gently cleaning the surviving kit. The egg squeaked _again_, and trembled in his hands, and then it cracked, small claws carefully pushing their way out. Zuko hadn't thought there was anything _alive_ left in it. He'd placed it in the fire because the mother deserved the right to choose what to do with it. The hatchling that was breaking its way into the world fit into his palms nicely and was sticky from the egg, and it mewled _freshly-alive_ sounds at Zuko while he cleaned it. Uncle patted him on the shoulder slowly. 

"With every _tragedy_ in life, a good thing is also given to us, Nephew. You must remember that." He whispered. 

(Uncle and Sokka carefully gathered Mango Cake and her other kits. They burned their bodies until they were ash, because they'd _come_ from fire and deserved to _rest_ in it, and as much as his mind _buzzed with guilt_, he was relieved that they weren't in _pain_ anymore. He still _cried_ over it. He cried over it _soft and quiet_, the way he was _used_ to crying over things, carefully feeding the kit in his hands a piece of soft cheese because they had no milk, and bracing this new life and the one in Katara's lap against the cold air above the ground. Aang was crying too, and Katara was sniffling, and Sokka pretended that he hadn't gotten teary, but Zuko had seen the way he looked the largest kit and he _knew_. Uncle was sad in his _Uncle_ way, comforting and there.)

They were on the move again because now they couldn't afford to stay in that area, and if Zuko saw any of those pirates, he would lose all the honor he _thought_ he had, because he'd attack them until _someone_ went down. Their insistence on getting back what they thought _belonged_ to them had resulted in unnecessary loss of life. (And Zuko did know that whether Katara had been lighter about her theft or not, they _still_ would have hunted them down for those _Servals_. This was perhaps, one of the sadder points.)

(If he hated pirates _before_, he _despised_ them now. All he'd tried to do was free something that didn't deserve to be caged -and for people who stole for a living, they'd been pretty hypocritical about _being stolen from_. He knew none of these facts made everything okay, but if he didn't tell himself that they'd been in the wrong trying to _re-cage_ something, he would sink into a _numb-drowning-well_ in his own mind.)

* * *

When they eventually stop, it's in a harbor town that is notably unfriendly towards the Fire Nation. They had a small force of Earth benders that, if rumors were true, were masters of their craft. It had been nearly two weeks since the pirates. Zuko tried not to sink into the _numb-drowning_ in his mind, but sometimes it was hard. The kits helped with that. Teriyaki Noodle -so named for the soft brown stripe that ran asymmetrically down one side of his muzzle- had finally managed to open his eyes, but he did so to look at Appa.

The bison had huffed at the tiny kit several times, and apparently terrified Noodle so bad, he needed to see what _this-thing-that-breathed-like-wind_ was. it was love at first sight, for Noodle. Appa had no idea why the furry hatchling predator had made itself a nest on his head, but he didn't mind all that much. Hatchlings were hatchlings, and maybe, like Momo, it would keep the bugs away. Zuko quietly thought it was adorable when he could feel more than sad. 

He elected to stay with Appa in a cave while the rest of the party went into town to resupply, despite Iroh trying to object. Shortly, it was just Appa, Noodle, Fried Dumpling -who'd decided that Zuko was her own personal perch and spent her days curled up inside his robes- and him. It was weirdly nice to not have Katara _hovering_, or Sokka _helpfully-accidentally_ distracting him from his _plaguing guilt_. Or worse, Aang's insistent, always there hugs (which he secretly liked, because they were meant to comfort and support) or Uncles insistent and _almost impressive_ inner-library of proverbs for _everything_. Surprisingly, as soon as everyone was gone, he banked the low fire and grabbed a blanket, then curled up with Noodle and dumpling to nap. 

It was the first bit of _real sleep_ he'd had in a long time, because the only ones around to hear him _cry_ were Appa and the kits. 

(At least _mostly_. Aang came back in the afternoon, and quietly set about making some congee. He'd been paying attention to how Zuko liked it, because Katara always talked about how she _appreciated_ not being the only one to cook, and his small crush on her wasn't gone, just buried except when she _wasn't looking_. He was also cooking to not think about the truth of _why_ he was in the South Pole even though he'd been _headed_ to Omashu. He was still having nightmares about the guilt. Zuko wasn't _alone_ in this.)

Then the storm hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you interested the Crowned Bearded Serval is a mesh between a Crowned African Eagle, a Bearded Dragon, and a Serval, which is either an Australian or African wild cat that is a danger. I have a lot of concept sketches, but feel free to come up with your own interpretations!


	11. Fevers and fortunes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter is a hundred percent done now, with over nine thousand feels. You're welcome and sorry.  
So the next few chapters will be build-up for the Northern Water Tribe, so we'll probably be going slightly slower than I have been.  
(I say probably because my outline has been subject to change up to this point, and I can promise nothing.)
> 
> Current Chapter Status: COMPLETE

The Capital was in an _uproar_. Their Princess was gone, _stolen_ from her own chambers by Earth Kingdom spies. Their Prince -_banished_ or not, he was still _their_ prince- was _missing_, presumed a prisoner of war. Agni only knew what he must be suffering at the hands of savages. Their Fire Lord feared the worst, that his too young mind would break under the pressures of torture. That he would side with the enemy to avoid further pain, and the steps they might have to take to prevent any _confidential information_ from getting into enemy hands. 

The Fire Lord was heart-broken at the _implications_ within these fears. His people were trying _not_ to see everything wrong with what he had so subtly suggested his course of action would be. People that saw something _wrong_ with their Fire Lord tended to disappear. 

(Yet they couldn't ignore that the capital may have been lit by Agni's rays, but it was _cold_. Colder than any winter, and anyone who was a strong enough bender felt the _disconnect_. This was all made worse by the sudden death of High Sage Shiza. Another thing that was blamed on Earth Kingdom spies.)

(Those within the court that had never cared for Ozai's rise to power wonder quietly when the Earth Kingdom had started **burning** their enemies alive. No one was stupid enough to wonder this within Ozai's hearing. The glint in his eyes the last few weeks had become more obsessive, and no one wanted to be caught directly by that look.)

* * *

The storm came swiftly, building up in the far distance as a dark smudge before it was suddenly _there_. Zuko only noted it because one moment he was dozing with the soft feel of Agni's warmth in the air, and the next it was bizarrely cold. He woke to find that Aang was cooking, and speaking quietly to Katara, evading her questions expertly, but _without_ shouting. Beyond them, the mouth to the cave was _darkness_ and _angry_, _rolling clouds_. 

(Far, far beyond, on the seas, La and his brother-in-law the Fujin of the Western winds _raged_ at Zhaos's ship. Zhao _had not_ been having a good time the last few weeks. It felt like the _world_ had it out for him. Most of it did.)

Zuko was in that quiet place between wanting to _sleep more_ and wanting to be awake, because he was no longer alone and he wasn't sure if today was a good or bad day yet. Then he caught the tail end of what Aang was saying. 

"... didn't even find out I was the _Avatar_ until a month before I ended up in the iceberg. They weren't supposed to _tell me_ until I was sixteen, and they weren't _explaining anything_, but they were _perfectly fine_ with _changing everything_ _on me so fast!_" He growled, stabbing at the hot coals viciously. Zuko wasn't sure what they were talking about, but _that_ certainly sounded familiar. Things like _that_ had been his whole _childhood_.

Zuko sat up slowly, getting soft, _complaining_ mewls from the two kits curled on his chest. Noodle refused to move from his arm, where he tumbled when Zuko sat up, but Dumpling clawed her way to his shoulder as he carefully shuffled over to sit down by the fire. Aang wouldn't look at him, but he didn't stop talking.

"They said they _needed_ me. They never explained _what for_ before they increased my training, and started trying to limit what I did and where I _went_. It took less than a _week_ for the other kids in my year to start excluding me -because I was _the Avatar_. Like that made _me_ any different. Like anything had _really_ changed!" Katara reached out to gently pat Aang's shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm so sorry Aang." The boy hunched further over Momo, his eyes squeezing shut. 

"I could have _lived_ with all that." He admitted weakly. "I could have lived with _everything else_, but then ... they wanted to _separate me from Gyatso_." Zuko flinched unintentionally.

He hadn't seen the corpse of the boy's father-figure, but he'd eventually been _told_ about it. Zuko couldn't imagine being _separated_ from Uncle Iroh or _worse_, finding the old general _dead_. He got a cold pit in his stomach just thinking about it. Zuko wasn't good at _comfort_, but he gently pulled the monk in for a one-armed hug _regardless_. Aang stiffened, then melted into the touch slowly. Momo chittered nervously and got a soft, sleepy sound in response. Aang chose to pull away after a few minutes of _deep breathing_, and continued quietly. 

"I don't understand how they could _do that_. They were taking away _everything I knew_, and then they wanted to take _everyone I loved_! The nomads had a different idea of a family than the rest of the nations, but Gyatso _raised_ me! _He was my father_!" The boy was _crying angrily_ now, and Zuko subtly held his hand out to Katara and motioned to Aang with wide eyes. Panic attacks or sinking depression, he could deal with. _Tears_ were beyond his ability to comfort at present. Katara rolled her eyes at him, and gently reached out pull the nomad into a tight hug. She made shushing, soothing sounds that were both familiar and not, and he realized she must have been picking certain things up from Uncle. That short hum was definitely one he'd heard from the older man. 

"Sorry." Aang eventually rasped, and Katara pulled away. 

"No, you have a right to be sad and angry after the monks sent you away!" She chastised. The boy's guilty look intensified and Zuko suddenly knew _before_ he spoke why he always looked _super guilty_ when people talked about the Avatar's _disappearance_. 

"That's not what happened, is it." It wasn't a question. Aang hugged Momo to his chest and buried his face in the lemur's fur. The lemur started patting at his bald head affectionately, trilling softly. 

"I was angry. Confused. They had me at the end of my rope, and they were ripping away everything pieces by piece. In only four weeks, they managed to turn my world upside down and shake it. _I didn't know what to do_, and felt like I had _no one_ to talk to. The only thing they'd ever _consistently_ trained me to do was _follow the wind_, and I thought-" he paused and scrubbed at his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "I thought that I'd just _go away_, visit some friends in other nations. People that wouldn't _treat me different_. I thought time away and _on the wind_ would offer me _clarity_ for the right things to _say_ and _do_ when I went _back_." 

"You ran away." Katara looked impossibly sad and understanding all at once, and Zuko felt for this boy, who'd literally had his _whole life _changed in a month, then _completely altered_ in almost _three_. 

(Aang woke up three months ago to a new age, and new people that didn't know his culture and probably never would have had he not been the Avatar. The nomad had known he was the Avatar for all of _four months_ of his lifetime, and he was _twelve_.)

"Yeah. Then the Fire Nation _attacked my people_ and I wasn't there to help." Aang responded bitterly. Zuko stirred at that and gripped Aang's shoulder, shaking his head slowly. 

"Aang, you're _twelve_. Avatar or _not_, how long do you think you would have held up to an _entire army_ that was extra powerful? How long could you have lasted even if you managed to save some of your people? My great grandfather was determined to wipe the nomads off the map, and if he'd thought even _one_ lived, he would have been searching the oceans for you." He gentled his tone, because he could see the sheen of _angry-tears_ starting up again. "I get it. Okay? You wish that you had been able to protect your people because they were _your people._ That's noble, and honorable, but while you're _beating yourself up_, you need to remember a couple of things. You were much too _young_ to be given so much _responsibility_, and they were taking away the _one person_ you trusted _not to lead you astray_. On top of both of those things, they didn't adequately communicate with you about _what _dangers were present, and _why_."

Katara and Aang both gave him odd, _thoughtful_ looks, but he brushed it off by way of patting the Airbender on the shoulder lightly.

"The Spirits work in mysterious ways Aang. If they hadn't wanted you where you ended up, you wouldn't have been on those wind currents. Isn't that one of the nomad philosophies?" Aang nodded mutely, and Zuko stroked a finger over Noodle's head. "Then stop beating yourself up over it. It's good that you're trying to take responsibility for your mistakes, but if you hadn't done everything you had, there _really_ wouldn't be any Airbenders left, and the Avatar of this generation might have been killed_ three times over_. You _don't_ want to know what my father would do with his own pet Avatar, Aang. _No one does_." Zuko carefully passed Noodle off to Aang, and the nomad was extremely gentle in curling the kit to his chest while Zuko checked the food. Before anything more could be said on the subject, there was the sound of wet boots on stone, and Iroh and Sokka walked into the cave soaking wet and chuckling, holding packages.

"You left them alone in town with money?" He hissed at Katara. The Waterbender slapped her forehead gently. 

"I forgot to grab the purse from Iroh when that fisherman started saying all those things about the _Returned Avatar_." It was an _apology_ and _self-deprecation_ all in one, so Zuko let it drop. 

"Uncle, we talked about _unnecessary supplies_." He said instead, as soon as Iroh and Sokka were in earshot and no longer chuckling. Sokka gave him a look of fake affront. 

"I'll have you know all the supplies Uncle Iroh and I pick up _are necessary_! And thanks to all those _weird things_ Katara swiped, _totally affordable!_" Katara rolled her eyes, casting a look at the Earth Kingdom bag she'd swiped to carry the scrolls (and one truly atrocious monkey they'd had to pry out of Iroh's hands) and subsequently, currently held everything from their stealth mission she had intended to keep -like the water-tribe jewelry- and both of the Waterbending scrolls in their possession. 

(Like the Claw weapons. Iroh had started teaching her how to use them -or how he'd seen them used- to fight with. She'd figured out how to bend while wearing them the last time she practiced.)

Before they could figure out what was so necessary in Sokka and Iroh's minds, someone appeared at the mouth of their cave and started begging for help.

"My husband is in that storm! Please! You're the _Avatar_, aren't you?" So, of course, Aang agreed to help. Noodle ended up in Zuko's hands, so he carefully tucked the kit into his shirt -which Dumpling took as an invitation to join her brother- then he served the woman a bowl of congee, and Iroh put on some tea while Aang, Katara and Sokka drug Appa up and out. He could already tell it would be a long night.

(It was, but mostly because the older woman _chatted_ at him insistently the entire time she was there, fretting and twitching towards the cavern entrance every time there was a flash of lightning or a shadow in the sky. Uncle helped by being _charming_ at her, drawing her into a conversation that was mostly directed away from the current situation.)

After Aang, Katara, and Sokka returned, and the couple left after _bickering_, they found out that Uncle and Sokka's idea of _necessary supplies_ were new sheaths for their weapons. They'd spent their day in town politely bullying people into making the sheaths, because Katara didn't have anything for her claws, and Zuko's strap for his dao was just barely long enough to fit over his shoulder -he'd grown a lot in the last year. Now, Katara had a belt with square leather pouches on either side, highly reinforced and perfectly fit for her claws. Zuko's new sheath for his dao would fit him no matter how tall or wide he got, and he stroked the leather while Sokka chatted at him about the new leather sheath for his war fan, which hung by his knife now. 

(These, of course, were _Sokka's_ idea of necessary supplies. Iroh produced more _tea_, and what looked like a _flute, _and a bundle of miscellaneous clothing items he swore would be necessary in the future. Zuko _not-so-quietly_ accepted the fact that he was _never_ getting away from music nights, but at least they couldn't very well tote a tsungi horn around.)

(Much later, he found out none of them had remembered to resupply the food. He ended up dragging Sokka back out with him the next morning, while it was still drizzling. The older boy complained about the rain the whole way into town, and the entire time they were shopping. Dumpling -who'd refused to be left behind- had been fascinated by _this thing she'd never seen before_, until she found out it was _wet_. For the rest of the trip, she attached herself to his collar and curled into his chin. Sokka stopped complaining when he realized that Zuko wasn't listening. On their way back, now laden with supplies that Dumpling wanted to explore but didn't want to get wet for, Sokka started _coughing_.)

* * *

Sokka thought he was an Earthbender, and he kept calling Noodle '_King Crab_.' He also thought he was an Earthbender, and that he could understand Appa and Momo. Zuko would have felt bad for the _cold_ if Sokka weren't slightly hilarious while in delirium, and really, who caught a cold from a little rain? Weren't they from the South Pole? Katara shrugged helplessly when Zuko asked these questions, trying to help Sokka break his fever. 

"_Crabby_? Come 'ere Crabby, whose a good little crabby?" Sokka cooed, gently pulling Noodle into his sleeping bag. The kit seemed confused by the name -Zuko marveled again at the _intelligence_ of these creatures, that even young they could recognize being given a name- but curled into the soft scritches being given. 

Iroh, who'd spent most of the morning brewing a '_bracing, healing potion,_' paused as he dropped some fine-sliced ginger root into the boiling pot. 

"Ah, _Nephew_! I have just _remembered_!" Before Zuko could get worried, Sokka tried to sit up blearily, cradling Noodle to his chest.

"_What is it, Uncle!_ Did you remember where you _hid_ _my seal jerky_?" Katara carefully made the boy lay back down, and Zuko wondered when the rest of the group had started calling Iroh 'Uncle' so casually. 

(Also why his uncle would have hidden seal jerky from the boy, but then, his Uncle probably _hadn't_. Babies or not, they'd quickly learned that Dumpling and Noodle had _sharp teeth_. The two tiny _apex predators_ were also growing at an alarming rate, with Noodle being half of Momo's size now compared to nearly two-and-a-half weeks before. Of course, they also weren't sure just how old Noodle _was_. Malnutrition and infection tended to slow growth substantially. Dumpling had only hatched two-and-a-half-weeks before, but she had full locomotion and sat in his palms comfortably.)

"What? _No_, I'm sorry Sokka. I remembered the _nickname_ for the Servals! It has been bothering me for some time." The older man chuckled, absently stirring the contents of his pot. "Their species name is quite a mouthful, so many of our ancestors called them _King Servals_. I cannot _tell you_ how long it has bothered me!" Zuko rolled his eyes at Katara, who was chuckling over Sokka's overexaggerated requests for Seal Jerky while also trying to keep the boy laying down.

"How's the tea going?" Aang asked, running in from outside the abandoned temple. Iroh smiled at the monk in response and carefully pored a cup out.

"_Hopefully_, it will be as strong as my old friend Cheng's. Now, _there_ was a field medic who could analyze an injury in a heartbeat, and have you patched up_ just as fast!_" Zuko and Aang followed Iroh over to Sokka and watched him _smile-with-force_ at the sick boy until he choked the brew down. The boy gagged and made faces at them, then promptly fell asleep minutes later. He made Katara drink some too, because she'd started coughing and they couldn't afford for her to be sick as well.

"How come we're the only ones that have to drink it?" The girl grumbled, scrunching her nose at her empty cup. Zuko didn't want to know what the brew had tasted like, but he could imagine.

(He'd had plenty of 'healing brews' shoved at him at the start of his voyage, and none of them had been good.) 

"You'll forgive me for reminding you, but you and your brother had _never left_ the South Pole before the beginning of our adventure. You haven't been exposed to some of the illnesses on the mainlands, so your immunity is _weaker_ to it." He patted the girls hand gently, and took her cup. "The rest of us are traveled -we have been to multiple ports and places, and have better immunity to local illness or sudden weather. That doesn't mean I won't _insist_ on my Nephew or Aang drinking my brew if they begin to feel ill." Zuko very subtly ignored the pointed look Uncle gave him -the same look Uncle gave him any time he was thinking about the week after he'd woken up where he'd quietly disposed of brews creatively. 

"Don't feel bad Katara! I caught the hog-monkey flu a couple of years back and _wow_! That was _terrible_! Of course, it was my own fault for messing with hog-monkeys." Zuko hadn't heard of the hog-monkey flu, so he had no idea why messing with hog-monkeys pertained to getting sick. Katara made similarily confused noises, and Aang launched into a running tirade of what the hog-monkey flu was, and Zuko was glad it was apparently a sickness that had died out. Dumpling agreed by way of mewling in a way that sounded like a squawk, and he spent the rest of the evening feeding Noddle and Dumpling while Iroh got increasingly insistent with his brews.

(Far away, on an ocean that was just barely calming, Zhao looked into the face of the seas and La _looked back_. He stared at the _unholy_ spirit staring back at him and realized that before he dealt with the Avatar, he needed to deal with _this_. If _this_ was in the seas, no Fire Nation vessel was safe. La laughed at his angry shouts, lost to the Fujin's winds, and pushed the ship a little more. Agni looked on. Zhao had done this to himself, and no matter how much he wished his children below would see _reason_, parents could not simply hand their children all the answers. He did ask La and Tiesan to calm themselves _a little_. There were children on that boat who didn't deserve to drown in La's embrace -there were children who _saw_.)

* * *

They chose Makapu village because it was the closest to going north and resupplying they could get without going backward.

Sokka was feeling way better as they landed just outside the village, and not at all _woozy_. He doesn't remember thinking he was an Earthbender, but he does remember looking at Noodle and seeing _King Crab_, his older brother, then looking at Dumpling and almost calling her _Sea Prune_. Sokka remembers missing King Crab and Sea Prune so much he was cuddling both remaining kits and whining about seal jerky, while thinking about how tough and _snappy_ King Crab would grab wiggling Water Tribe fingers and nip before he forced them to pet while his eyes got cleaned. He asked for his missing seal jerky all while _wishing_ that Sea Prune was disdainfully sitting on his chest and pretending she didn't want pets.

(He missed the two older kits. _Pirates were the worst_.)

The fact that he could only remember things he'd said after he'd started drinking Uncle Iroh's noxious, _disgusting brew_ was not lost on him, but he still swore _never again_. It was possible he'd asked Zuko to kill him first if he got sick again, and he didn't think his buddy had agreed, which they would have _words_ about. Overall, his day had been going good because he was _feeling way better_, and wasn't at all feverish or headachy. Not even Katara and Aang practicing with their magic water (Aang with slight disinterest) made him overtly upset. That is until he found out that there was a _whole village_ that believed in _every word_ a fortuneteller said. 

The parts of him that wanted to believe that there was always a _logical explanation_ and _reasonable_, _physical proof_ of something denied the possibility of a fortuneteller _emphatically_. _He didn't care if it was raining now Katara, fortunetelling isn't real_.

(Katara once asked why he believed in spirits but nothing else. He hadn't been able to find the words to explain that Spirits were _different_. You saw traces of them everywhere, especially in the South Pole. And anyone that looked at the ocean and didn't see the hidden power there was a fool. Sokka believed in spirits. _Magic_ was a different matter _entirely_!)

Zuko, at least, appeared to be on _his side_ in this. The former prince had been scoffing almost as much as Sokka was, but Iroh was amused by the idea of having his fortune told, so _unlike_ Sokka, Zuko was going along with it. (It had taken Sokka less than two weeks with the duo to learn that Zuko would put up with a lot of things for his Uncle, and vice versa. It had taken him a day after learning this to use it to his advantage.) Now, they were walking towards a large house in a surprisingly clean village, and Sokka would have been cold if it weren't for Zuko helpfully keeping the air around him _warm_. (Dumpling and Noodle both appreciated this, as they'd climbed onto Zuko as soon the rain started, hiding under his conical hat.)

"If I catch that cold again, remember, you need to off me before Iroh gets his brew anywhere near my mouth." Sokka stage whispered since they were at the back of the group. Zuko shot him an offended glare. 

"I _already_ told you I'm not doing that! Are you sure you don't have a fever still?" he tried to check and Sokka lightly smacked his hand away. A mutual _narrow-eyed_ look, and they were at _war_. Sokka and Zuko were _play-slapping_ each other's hands away when they were invited inside the house. Sokka managed to get one last _clearly-the-bigger-brother_ slap in before he hurried inside to Zuko's affronted growling and Dumplings _mimicked_ echo. (At some point, that animal would be bigger, and Sokka would have to make it clear he was just _playing_, because she might eat him. She was _extremely_ territorial of Zuko.)

They were met by a baby-faced young girl that looked at Aang like he was a fresh slab of meat, and Sokka shuddered where she couldn't see. The kid probably wasn't any older than Aang, but she already had flirting _mastered_. _Girls_. _Mushy and terrifying_. Aang seemed completely oblivious to the girls' subtle flirtations -which made sense, because he was a _monk child_ and had the social awareness of _Zuko_ when it came to most girls. Sokka would have told the kid it wouldn't do any good because Aang had a _tiny crush_ -alright, so a kinda big one- on Katara, but that would be breaking the _unspoken code between men_.

Instead, he elbowed Zuko -who _immediately_ elbowed him back with a _glare_\- and nodded to the girl blushing and stumbling away from Aang. He also reached over the took the pastry dish. Zuko swiped a couple of the bean curd puffs, and they watched in mutual fascination as Katara jumped up and hurried after Aunt Wu.

"What ...what do you think they're talking about?" Aang asked. 

Sokka offered the bowl to Zuko, who swiped some and handed it back. (Momo somehow wiggled between them and swiped a few, then tried to take off with the whole bowl. Wrestling it back from his little lemur paws took Sokka _and_ Zuko working together.) Uncle Iroh was the one who answered. 

"It is my understanding that young ladies are _usually_ only interested in _love_."

Predictably, Aang _badly_ wanted to know what was being said, but Iroh metaphorically sat on him before Sokka could encourage him to _give up his seat_. After that, Aunt Wu and Katara came back, and Katara looked happy, where Aunt Wu had an odd look on her face that was a fine mixture of amused and awed. She gave Sokka a fortune before ever really talking to him, which only _confirmed_ his theory that fortunes were _nonsense_, and Zuko mutely shook his head when she asked if he wanted his told. Iroh went, and came back smiling that serene smile of his, while Aunt Wu looked _charmed_. One day, Sokka _would_ figure out how the old man _did that_. Finally, Aang went, then came back with a spring in his step and a dopey sigh.

(They split up after that. Zuko drug his uncle towards the market to resupply, and Sokka set out to prove the fortuneteller _wrong_, for his _own_ peace of mind. He wasn't sure what Katara and Aang were doing, only that the next time he saw them, Katara and Zuko were comparing shopping notes, and Aang looked _disheartened_ by something. Since Sokka's day had been nothing but disheartenment, he felt for the monk.)

"I cannot believe all these people are so convinced of this woman's fortunes." He grumbled. Momo jumped onto his shoulder and patted at his head, while Katara smirked at him in a way Zuko always referred to as '_a sister-smile._' 

"Couldn't convince anyone that their fortunes were wrong, huh?" Zuko probably had the right idea about Sisters being _the worst_.

"You're only saying that because she told you how many fat babies you're going to have!" He growled. Katara blinked at him in bafflement, then rolled her eyes. 

"You think all I spoke to her about was my _love life_?" Sokka knew that tone of voice, and from the way Zuko very _subtly_ shifted so he was leaning away from them both, so did he. "I'll have you know she may have told me what _type_ of man I'll end up with, but I wanted to know about whether or not I'd find a good _Waterbending teacher_ in the North, and if there would be any more _complications_ on our journey. Just so _you_ know, Aunt Wu suggested we avoid any big fires for a few weeks, and that looping either east or west would be safer than going _straight_ North." Her fists were propped on her hips now, and Sokka was trying very hard not to lean back. 

The instant he showed any fear, she'd take advantage and be given the upper hand. There was no snow here for her to dump on him, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. He spread his hands in a conceding manner, maintaining eye contact as he did so.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'm sorry I dare suggest that you, a girl, _only_ had boys on your mind. That was sexist of me." Aang stifled a chuckle behind his hands, and Zuko was pointedly _not looking_ at him. They would have words about his buddy's _tendency_ to leave him on his own when it came to Katara. Katara marched off, and Aang shuffled in between him and Zuko for a minute before he spoke.

(Him asking for advice on women was the _best thing_ Sokka had heard all day. It was also a good thing that Katara had already marched away. He thought he was giving pretty good advice, but Zuko kept _contradicting_ him, and Aang ended up _growling_ at them both and stomping away just as the girl Mieng walked up. Sokka almost told her it was hopeless to pin after Aang, but he wasn't a _jerk_. Later, while scaling that stupid volcano, he wished he _was_ a jerk, because then he would still be in town, with Zuko, who'd shook his head and quietly pointed at Dumpling, who wouldn't survive a fall from a sheer cliff face. This only had Sokka thinking about King Crab and Sea Prune all over again, so it was good that he was climbing a mountain and complaining about Aang's love life, because he needed that distraction.) 

The _best_ distraction came in the form of an active volcano that was thinking _very hard_ about blowing up. He and Aang made a mad-dash for the village, but naturally, no one would listen but their party members, because _Aunt Wu_ had suggested they would all be fine and they _blindly_ believed her. They had to talk fast to come up with a plan that might work, but the only problem was _implementing_ it. They couldn't find Aunt Wu, but Aang had a _brilliant_ idea.

(Which naturally lead to _theft_, because when didn't it in their group. Iroh looked like he was fighting a headache, but he was doing that _wise teacherly_ thing where he mostly let them choose their own course of action. Zuko clearly would have preferred to do the theft himself, if it weren't broad daylight. The former prince looked unreasonably upset to be standing guard outside. While Aang and Katara figured out a way to bend clouds, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh quietly gathered everything they'd need for the plan. Of course, everyone listened to them after Aunt Wu was brought outside and shown the message in the clouds. Sokka had to admit there was nothing more ominous than a giant cloud shaped like a skull, laughing down on them from above.)

From that point to late evening, it was nothing but dig, move, dig, all day. The Earthbenders did most of the work, but enough of the non-bender village people helped that Sokka was hoping it would make a difference. Zuko and Iroh were standing by to put out any fires that started just in case, and Sokka got the first real taste of intense heat in his life. He wasn't sure he liked it, and he really hoped that summers were nothing like that going forward. 

They saved the town. Well, _Aang_ saved the town, and they all _helped_. Sokka hadn't even been aware you could super-cool lava with air. It struck him again that this was a child who so often played with gale-force winds like it was nothing. That he was a tweleve-year-old who earned his 'mastery tattoos' early. (Sokka hadn't been sure, but thought earning your tattoos early would be something like the Water Tribe manhood trials.) They all agreed, when they left, to maybe take Aunt Wu's advice about not flying directly North. Sokka grumbled about it, but he was outvoted because Katara smiled her _sister-smile_ to the group as a whole. It was a smile that said she would purposefully season their stew _awfully_ if they took an _unnecessary_ risk based on Sokka's _pride_ and _big-headedness_.

(Yes, actually, smiles _could_ say all that. Sokka had enough experience with her actually saying it to know.)

_Sisters were the worst_.

* * *

Zhao received a reply from Ozai. His ship had finally managed to make port int a small, insignificant little harbor that wasn't even close to Fire Nation, but had to do because they were down on supplies and the men were exhausted. He sat down with the note intending to send a reply, but ended up sleeping on his desk. He woke to the feeling of being watched, but the only thing in his office was darkness and moonlight. He glared at the moon through the porthole, then set about writing his reply. He'd hopefully get some real sleep and real news soon, but it could wait until he'd finished this reply. 

He wrote another series of missives and had those sent out too. By next month, he would hopefully have enough people for his plans. 

(If, in his very much sleep-deprived state, he forgot that his timeline put him _perilously_ close to the full moon, he didn't note it. He hadn't slept in some time, and he _didn't_ sleep well that night either. His dreams were full of all the things the ocean had spit at him during the storms, and _none_ of them were kind. As had been common any time he slept, the final part of his dream was of a four-eyed monstrosity that _was_ the ocean, and opened impossibly wide jaws to _swallow_ his ship whole.)

(Zhao was not having a good time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noted that I changed some things up. That is because -while understandable, because she's fourteen- it always irritated me as a teenager myself (One who very rarely let crushes distract me from things I wanted) that Katara was so easily taken in by boys and fortunetelling, then did a complete 180 and only cared about waterbending the rest of the time. I decided to;  
A) mix the best of both worlds, show she's aware she's a girl without losing sight of who she _wants_ to be (a badass bender), so focusing her questions on _that_ aspect of her future  
B) stick to the current level of character development I have going for all these kids. My version of Katara, I feel, has been much more grounded in what she wants. She knows she wants to practice bending. She knows she is going to help the Avatar. It's her duty, a mission given to her by Tui herself! Getting over-excited and sucked into a fortunetellers fandom doesn't seem like my Katara. Yes, she went for a fortune, because it's all in good fun, and it can't hurt, but they also have places to be.  
*Deep breaths* Okay. Okay. Sorry this took so long. Been having a weird day.  
(Let me know if you see Typos?)


	12. Remembrance in the North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take a couple days to let my brain stew over the next couple of chapters. (And consequently, the side stories I need to incorporate subtly) 
> 
> EDIT: I have edited and updated the beginning of this chapter. Nothing major, but a few tweaked things here and there for consistency!
> 
> _Chapter status:_ DONE
> 
> META EDIT: OMG I'm sorry! I finished this and thought I posted it _completely_ updated! That is my bad I'm so sorry!

Teaching Aang _anything_ about Waterbending had, in retrospect, been a poor choice on their part. Katara had started the small lessons weeks before, because she wanted someone to spar against with _her_ element. Aang had gone through with the lessons because of the _not-so-small-anymore_ crush he had on her. He'd continued them for -Zuko was only _just_ realizing- _nefarious purposes_.

(The monk had confided in _Zuko_ -for reasons _unknown_\- that he'd liked Katara like a boy _thinks_ he likes a girl _at first_, but watching her pull a river up and sweep a bunch of pirates down a channel had _increased _his like to _divine-spirit-levels_. Whatever that meant. Zuko was still trying to figure out what the difference between _liking a girl_ and _thinking you liked a girl_ was.)

Zuko had shrugged at the lessons, _in the beginning_, content to let someone else take over being her practice partner (see: punching dummy without the physical punching) because he was tired of getting _soaked_. The lessons had started with mild disinterest from the nomad ... Until he realized how much easier pranks were when you had two elements in your arsenal. Because monks were _secretly nefarious_.

It was with great shame that Zuko admitted he _hadn't_ seen the warning signs until _far too late_. Like now. _Now_ he sat on a recently soaked log watching Sokka flail in the shallow riverside just beyond what _used_ to be their campfire, listening to a monk stifling his laughter behind them. Katara was on the opposite side of the narrow river, whatever she'd been practicing falling with a _splash_ from lack of concentration, watching with wide eyes and twitching lips. _Sisters_, he suddenly decided, _weren't as bad as monks_.

"Aang! That was _uncalled_ for!" Sokka wailed, finally sitting up and rolling to his knees. Zuko refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, because he was _counting_, and _not shouting_. Shouting would be taking steps _backward_ in his efforts to _communicate better_ with those around him. _Shouting_ would _feel good_, but it wouldn't _be good_.

"Well, I asked if you guys were _hot_. You're the ones that agreed you were thinking about taking a dip." Pure, _lying_ innocence in every word. Aang and Azula should _never meet_. Zuko had to start recounting when his breathing hitched. 

"That wasn't _blanket permission_ to soak me! And look! You _ruined dinner_! _And now I'm freezing!_" Sokka's volume had increased with every point. Zuko's slow, steady, _angry-breath-counting_ had managed to rekindle the fire unexpectedly. Dumpling chose this moment to growl impressively and swipe at something behind him. 

(She'd spent several frantic moments after the water fell on Zuko _scrambling behind a log_. The water has missed her, he was grateful to note. She'd tentatively crawled closer when all water-related splashing was done, and had been gently licking at exposed skin to try and help remove the wet. Swiping at -_presumably_\- Aang was such a _good-girl_ move, he gave her careful scritches.)

"Zuko, we've had this _discussion_. You aren't supposed to reward her for _your kind of behavior!_" Aang announced behind him. 

Zuko glared more at the slow-building fire and _increased_ his affectionate petting. The water from the river rippled behind a shivering Sokka, who was sitting alarmingly close to the fire pit and what was _supposed_ to be a stew. Katara moved into view a second later, looking serious despite the leftover amusement.

"Aang. _We_ also had a _discussion_ about water-related pranks in camp." She motioned widely over shivering Sokka, the stew that was now _watery soup_ (Zuko was going to throw it out. Just as soon as he had control of his _breathing_,) and _steaming_ Zuko, whom Dumpling had decided was safe enough to curl up against. 

He heard the shuffle of suddenly guilty feet and hoped distantly that Katara would _always_ use her power to _silently imbue disappointment_ for good. 

"Sorry, Sokka. Sorry, Zuko." The sheepish, but honest, apology took some of Zuko's annoyance, and really, he shouldn't let himself be upset. He could dry himself relatively quickly, unlike Sokka. 

(And a little cold river water was nothing to the frigid waters of the South Pole, no matter how much those Koala Otters had been _worth it_.)

Zuko sighed out his latest deep breath and nodded in Aang's direction to let him know the apology was accepted and mostly forgiven. If anything, he'd just spike Aang's soup with sweet-chili paste. An eye for an eye, right? Zuko motioned Sokka over to him, and the boy practically scrambled over the small growing fire. 

(Zuko barely resisted the urge to snuff the flames just in case, but Sokka never even came close to them.) 

He did a lot of deep breathing and general warming of the space until Sokka felt dryer and looked warmer, and then he tossed out the river-soup. He was pretty sure he'd seen a flash of a tail in the pot, so it was a good thing.

(Cook Zui had told him never to boil a fish alive. Zuko couldn't remember why, only that the chef said he _shouldn't_. He would have been worried if he had thought the flame was hot enough to reboil the cool water.)

Uncle chose that moment to appear from the woods, returning from his recon of the small settlement nearby. Zuko hadn't wanted to let him go alone, but Iroh was, of all of them, the least likely to accidentally or purposefully draw attention. Besides, he hadn't ended up going alone -Noodle had gone with him. The kit was even now happily draped over Iroh's shoulders, receiving soft pets under his chin, looking extremely content. Noodle chirped a greeting to Appa, who groaned from his space and _huffed back_ in a way that Zuko recognized as distinctly happy.

(In the last couple weeks of _travel-stop-resupply-travel_, Noodle had grown until he was just bigger than Momo, like the kit's body was making up for all the _lost growth_ from his early weeks. Zuko had noticed that Dumpling was growing at a fast rate as well, and he wondered if this was _natural_ so far from their usual environment. He was never likely to get an answer. King Servals were supposed to be a _protected_ species in his nation and were usually so dangerous, no one had ever studied them -except passively and from a _great distance_. The only thing he knew for sure was that eventually, both kits would be able to fly, and their shoulders would reach his knees, if their mother had been anything to go by.)

"Uncle Iroh! How's the settlement?" Aang asked, clearly already forgetting about his errant prank. That was good. Zuko wasn't sure _what_ he was making to replace the stew, but he knew it would have sweet-chili paste in it. 

"It was very friendly, Aang -and also Fire Nation free. I asked around, and the lovely people there said they don't mind if we join their story-circle tonight." Uncle smiled at the now-empty pot sitting by the slow-dying fire, then quirked an eye at the children in amusement, "apparently, those that cook will have food carts set up. I noticed our dinner is conspicuously missing, so perhaps this was fate." Uncle chuckled. 

Aang laughed one of his _nervous laughs_, the one that suggested he hoped others got the joke, and they did end up going to the small settlement for their story-circle. He refrained from bringing the sweet-chili paste, because Aang would notice if Zuko slathered it on top of his food publicly. He could always sneak it into the congee in the morning, with some berries Momo had helped him forage earlier that day. 

The food offered wasn't bad, even if it could have been spicier, and most of the stories were even entertaining. It was a nice look into Earth Kingdom culture he hadn't had before -like the fact that they all believed their spirit deity was dead. Dabogong hadn't been heard rumbling under the Earth for _centuries_. The great Earthbenders of old, imbued with their deities blessing -able to form mountain ranges and raise land from the seas- had long since faded into fantastical legend. 

(Zuko wondered if this spirit looked as strange as his Brother and Sister did. He hoped not.)

Then the final story-teller spoke about Air Nomads, spinning tales around their legendary mischievousness that Zuko could well believe were _true_. One only needed to spend a few days in Aang's company to see that Air Nomads may have been _highly spiritual_, but they were also _highly bored_ and prone to _shenanigans_ and _time-wasting nonsense_. Katara nudged Aang softly, looking amazed and slightly amused. 

"Was any of that true?" She asked. 

"Some of it was a _little_ exaggerated, but _I_ laugh at gravity _all the time!_" The boy chuckled back. 

The final storyteller was walking around with his hat out. Zuko nudged a zenny into Sokka's hand and they both dropped one in. Uncle Iroh was circulating around the story-circle, speaking to people and being charming -with Noodle purring loudly on his wider shoulders. Zuko nudged another zenny into Katara's hand when the man turned to her expectantly. Aang and Momo found their own to give, if only because the boy had followed after the man as he turned away. 

(Finding out that the man's decrypt old grandfather claimed he'd seen a nomad _recently_ was unexpected and made Zuko both sad and hopeful. Sad because he knew this wouldn't end the way Aang _wanted_ it to. Hopeful that his own pessimism was _wrong for once_, and that there would be a happy surprise waiting for them in the Northern temple.)

* * *

Azula breathed deeply, glaring on principle at the ocean. She ignored the frigid air like she ignored the adults a few feet away, speaking about her like she couldn't hear them. _She_ had finally gotten word to Uncle Iroh, but didn't know if he would be able to get back to them in time. They'd all tried to convince Azula that she needed to _reconsider_ what she was doing, but she'd grown up with a man that could manipulate better than anyone. 

(When he was thinking _clearly_. When he was at full strength. The father she'd grown up with would have never let her run away.)

The adults on this boat didn't understand _why_ what she was doing now was important, but _it was_. _She_ understood a little, but not as much as Azula needed. That was the problem. Azula didn't need a-a ...a mother figure! She'd never needed one! She didn't need a father figure either -_her's_ had taught her that fathers couldn't be trusted. Parents were for other children. What she _needed_ was something more important than that -

(She'd seen the documents before she left, written _before_ he'd started being strange, dated for _years ahead_. Her life plotted out in meticulous detail, down to the kind of company she was _allowed_ to keep, and when he wanted her to _murder_ Zuko, should he still live. She was supposed to be his _legacy_. His eventual _figurehead_. A pretty daughter that wasn't allowed to be pretty, who would eventually marry someone _he_ chose and have _babies_ to further continue _his_ legacy. These weren't the main reasons she'd finally decided to leave, but they were _some_ of them.)

"Princess? Would you like something to eat now?" Azula let her attention drift _purposefully_ away from the waves -not a defeat or a _retreat_, she was _choosing_ to look away from the water because _she was better._ She still wasn't sure what was out there, but she would _not_ let it think she'd given up their mutual test of wills.

"I suppose. As long as it's not that stew again." She grumbled _snippily_, letting herself be seated.

_She_ smiled, that smile she only smiled at _Azula_, when she was supposed to _frown_ like the other adults did at that tone. Azula got a steaming plate of seasoned fish with sweet-chili paste on the side, and a series of vegetables she didn't recognize but at least weren't _that_ stew. Distantly, in the back of her mind, she wondered when the idea of eating a quiet meal with an adult stopped being so chore-like. That _thought-road_ made her squirm inside, so she alternated between glaring at her plate and glaring at the waves _appropriately_.

* * *

Aang leaned into the harsh Northern winds and _smiled_. He could feel, just under his skin, the happy-tingle of freedom that came with a flight. The small part of him that was dreading whatever he'd find in the Northern temple squirmed uncomfortably. Or maybe that was Momo trying to crawl into Aang's Gi again. He peeked open an eye to check, and found that there was, in fact, a lemur squirming its way into his Gi. Noodle brushed against Aang's back curiously and then his fluffy head appeared at Aang's elbows, eyes intent on Momo's hindquarters. 

"Teriyaki Noodle! Young man, we have _talked about this_. Momo doesn't like your kind of play!" It involved a lot of _gentle nibbling_ and _roughhousing_ that terrified the lemur. "Be a good kitty and go tackle _Sokka_." He finished, gently scooting the kit away from Momo's frantically waving tail. 

Noodle gave him a betrayed look, but expertly navigated his way into the saddle. A second later, Sokka let out a surprised squeak.

"Not the face! Why is it the face_ every time_!" The water tribe boy shouted next. 

Aang settled back into place and listened to the sound of his found family bickering. Momo reached out from his Gi and patted his face gratefully, peeking out cautiously every now and then to see what was going on before he wiggled back inside. Aang ran soothing hands over the lemurs' ears when he could, letting himself get lulled back into a state of relaxed-worrying. He almost missed the _familiar-but-felt-old_ feeling of crisp-cold wind in his mind and along his spine, accompanied by the sweet rush of free-flying. He hadn't felt his Southern mother when they went to his former home -he'd worried that something might have happened to the Sothern Fuijn, but her winds had still blown strong and true, so maybe she'd still been in mourning. 

(On of the few lessons he'd retained about spirits was that they were empathically different from _people_. They carried emotions longer or shorter depending on their personalities, and a hundred years would mean nothing to them if they were sad enough.)

To know that his Northern Mother awake was a blessing he hadn't known he needed. Aang grabbed his glider even before he was aware of moving, following her pull as he always had. Momo jumped from his Gi at the last second, screeching in surprise when Aang dove off of Appa's head. He could hear the group calling after him, but all his focus was on Fujin Seiruka beneath and above. She surrounded him in welcome, a cacophony of happy-sad-hopeful emotions that played through his mind.

(They flew together as they were meant to, blessed human child and spirit mother. It had been a century since she had felt one of their children under her winds, and she had _missed this_. She lead and he followed, a wild dance in the sky and clouds that had them both laughing -crying, _they were crying too_\- and ended with her gently depositing the last of their wild human children on the Sky-Bison's back. Seiruka had known they intended to wake him, but seeing and knowing were two different things. Seeing gave her hope. Knowing had only given her nightmares.)

When Aang landed gently in the saddle, he was _exhausted_ and _breathing wrong_, and crying a little still. In the last four months, he'd only felt the faintest of pulls from the winds -the Western ones- but they had been distant and distracted. To fly with one of his peoples' deities again had been something he'd needed terribly. Katara was aking him soft questions he wanted to answer but didn't have the words for right then. He felt the subtle change in the wind and looked up in time to see a shimmer tug on Appa's reigns, and the Bison obligingly shifted into the gale, riding it easily. 

"She's leading us to the temple." He croaked when Sokka went to grab the reigns. The older boy paused to frown at Aang and slowly sat back, caution in every move.

"Who's leading us to the temple?" Zuko and Sokka asked in unison -then glared at one another. Aang spoke after clearing his throat.

"Fujin Seiruka. Mother of the bracing Northern winds." Sokka immediately held his hands up and scooted further away from the front, sliding closer to Iroh. One of the nicest things about Sokka was that he rarely argued with anything spirit related. Zuko shifted curiously where he sat, his eyes trained on the _subtle-and-only-occasionally-there-shimmer_ near Appa's reigns. There was no more time for talk after that because they broke through a layer of heavy fog and clouds and the Northern temple was there. 

(It was all high towers and frosted roofs, and all the same as it had been. Except for what distantly looked like _damage_ to a couple of the lower towers. And oh, right, the people gliding around it erratically, and what appeared to be a semi-ramshackle village connected by bridges, build at the slightly wide base around the temple. This wasn't how Aang expected his day to go.)

* * *

Bato of the Southern Water Tribe took in a deep breath and rolled his shoulder experimentally. There was still the slightest of twinges, but it would continue healing as he made his way over the Earth Kingdom. Hakoda had finally sent him word, so there was no need to stay at the Abbey. His sources said the Fire Nation navy was gathering directly North -which was concerning- so he intended to stick to by now well-known inland rivers that would help him subvert Fire Nation colonies and military encampments. While he prepared to leave, he thought of all the insane stories he'd been hearing about the Avatar returning and traveling with two young Water Tribe warriors, and some Fire Nation rebels. Even the nuns had found reason to gossip about it.

He distantly wondered how the insular Northern Tribe felt about _two of their own_ galavanting around with the Avatar, and then decided the snobs were probably writing out a list of everything they wanted in return for _letting_ their warriors _help_. He just hoped that the Northern attitude wasn't rubbing off on the Avatar -_if_ such a person really existed. This made him think of home -of Katara and Sokka, and the children he was trying to protect. These thoughts successfully turned his mind back to important, serious matters, and away from daydreams like the Avatar returning to help them.

(He had _no way_ of knowing that if it weren't for Aang's _puppy-kitten_ eyes and the fact that there was a _fire nation colony_ just northeast of his position, he would have found out who the brave Water Tribe warriors were. As it was, Zuko had eyed the map and elected that Aang's desire to go pray in the Northern temple was clearly the lesser of two evils. Bato would find out, in the weeks to come, that the two warriors traveling with the Avatar sounded _bizarrely familiar_.)

* * *

The Earth Kingdom refugees that had made a home around the base of the temple called their make-shift village _Skytopia_. Zuko thought it was a stupid name, but their reasons for building it around the temple became clear after a few stories. And a look at the _alarmingly familiar technology_ they used to keep their village warm, and to glide, and to move up and down the levels of their 'streets.' The central figure of all their stories was a spirit shrouded in mist and feathers, with a woman's face and a voice so powerful it summoned clouds. Apparently Fujin Seiruka did not appreciate their efforts to 'fix,' her temple. She made his clear by destroying all their tools. 

When they tried again, she used her winds to blow their belongings off the mountain and screeched every time they tried after that. Eventually, they reached a _compromise_ with the angry spirit, and she allowed them to build _around_ her temple. She even _helped_. She didn't care if they looked around the temples, but the instant they wanted to move in and _change things_, she got angry. Aang agreed with her -except Zuko could tell the boy wouldn't have minded if they lived in the temples, as long as they didn't _destroy anything_. 

(Zuko and Dumpling had explored the damaged buildings. He could see where they'd tried to set up a system of pipes, only for it all to be destroyed. It was a good thing Seiruka guarded her temple, or it would have ended up a monstrosity. This bit of exploration led him to invite himself along on Sokka's '_exciting_' tour of the place, because he needed to know where the man had gotten the idea for the steam pipes. His people had been using this technology for the last century and a half. It was the equivalent of the Earthbenders and their stone chutes for his people. Refugees whose town had flooded shouldn't have even seen this kind of thing_ this far north._)

When the tour ended in the mans 'laboratory,' one of the few buildings built onto the stone outcropping just below the temples, and he and Sokka started talking in long-running streams that both made sense and didn't -how did they talk so much?- Zuko decided he'd seen enough. He wasn't sure if the man was just extremely intelligent, or slightly insane, but he was determined that he would find the answer to his numerous questions. But only after he'd met Aang to pray with the boy. 

The monk and Katara had gone with Teo to see how his village used their gilders. Uncle Iroh had trailed after them curiously, having taken one look at Sokka and Teo's father _speaking adamantly_ and smiling. Zuko sometimes got the feeling that he wasn't the only one who only understood half of Sokka's brain. The older boy thought in weird, abstract ways. He was intelligent, there was no doubt -and Zuko would never admit that or Sokka's ego would inflate more- but he often got his answers and ideas in obscure ways. Like whatever they were shouting about _rotten eggs_.

(He didn't notice Dumpling slip into the shadows by the door. She'd taken to walking more often the past week and a half, so he hadn't given a second thought to her weight being absent from his shoulder. He'd assumed that this was her way of slowly becoming independent, like how Noodle would wander away from Appa to explore with one of them. After today, he would remember to keep a better eye on her.)

When he found Aang and Katara, Katara was learning how to glide, and it looked awesome. Uncle tried to stop him from accepting a glider and getting a tutor, but he was outmatched and outvoted, and Zuko had only listened to the first series of instructions before he jumped off the cliff to his Uncle -halfway through _a proverb_ _about safety_ _on the ground_\- shouting his name.

(Distantly, he realized they'd forgotten to emphasize the Earth Kingdom name rule. Presently, he was too excited by the slice of wind on his cheeks to care.)

On the cliff above, watching Aang break away from Katara to glide down to Zuko and give him a boost up up up until the boy was even with Katara and they were all gliding together, Iroh was taking deep, calming breaths. He needed tea. He needed tea five seconds ago, when his Nephew was smiling shyly at the glider being handed to him, and he needed tea five minutes ago, when the offer to learn had been made. He was afraid he might be breathing fire, because the children around him were eyeing him warily. 

"I think we should make some tea. They will surely be parched and chilled when they come back down." Hopefully in one piece. 

______

Dumpling slunk through the shadows, hunting for the smell-that-wasn't-right. She'd been catching traces of it all over, but here it was strongest. In the corner by the stone wall was the strongest scent marker, so she sat and _waited_. She shivered a little too, but her inner fire was a warm, steady blaze. She wished _Nesting-Mom-roars-a-lot_ hadn't left, but she also knew she must find out what this scent belonged to. It was the smell of _warm-fires_ but _wrong_ because it was also the smell of _many-ashes-in-pit-dying-angry-sick-prey_. _Squeals-when-nipped-squishy-human-uncle_ was chittering excitedly at _scruffy-stranger_, but soon _squeals-when-nipped_ left. Dumpling watched. She waited. She was a _good-girl-best-sneaker_, and she was _patient_. The stone slid open like a den-cover, and a man came out. Dumpling watched. She waited. This man was covered in bad smells, and he made _scruffy-stranger_ stink of fear. He was a predator, like her, and that wouldn't do. Dumpling was the _only_ **best-girl-good-hunter**. This was _her_ ancient-territory-since-warm-sky-rose. The hunt was on, but she knew she needed _hatch-brother-prowling-partner-Noodle_ to take down this prey. She was still too small to do it alone. She also needed _Nesting-Mom-roars-a-lot_, because she had no human paws to open stone-den-covers. She slipped through the shadows like she _was one_, in the way she'd been taught, and went looking for her pack. 

* * *

The Princess still hadn't been found. The Fire Lord was obsessed with finding her, so much so that he was sinking all of his efforts and energy into focusing on her retrieval. As a result, he'd shoved off several duties he shouldn't have to two different people. General Lui Wei, in charge of his private security force, was given leeway to respond and coordinate all military operations for the time being. Councilor Li Qiang, the only other head of an _aristocratic_ house that dated back to the beginning of their nation and who acted as his political advisor, was told to handle the courts.

(Both of these men were poor decisions, for drastically different reasons. Had he been in his right mind in any capacity, Ozai would have realized this.) 

General Lui Wei was a man who was loyal to Agni and his Nation -not an upstart brat that had _never_ had a military career, whom he only respected because of the _crown on his head_. This made him Ozai's worst enemy when it came to military tactics and decisions because all of his advice had come from experience in the field, compared to Ozai's pure tactic and disregard for life. As soon as he was given the approval to do so, he started sending out subtle messages to his people in the field. These messages in no way said '_search for the princess and burn everything in your way_,' as Ozai had wanted. The message was much simpler, and much more complex all at once. A simple order to _restock on Jasmine tea_.

(This General, wise to the underlying political atmosphere, was not one of the many whose inner fire had gone cold, only one that was pretending very well. This was perhaps the only reason he'd been given the position.) 

Councilor Li Qiang was a man that held loyalty only for his wife and children. For them, he would do many things. Acting as Ozai's voice was only his most _recent_ sin. He told the courts everything Ozai wanted them to hear with a pleasant smile and a glint in his eyes that said he was _aware_ he was making no sense. In its own way, this was even worse for Ozai than what the General was doing, because the Generals _incidental_ treason had been years in the making. Councilor Li Qiang had merely seen an opportunity and took it, and now, he asked Ozai questions from the court in only the vaguest of terms to see what the man spit out in his _mania_ to find his daughter. This was _intentional _treason, because he very much wanted Ozai to be seen as _inept_.

(Everyone knew the girl had run away. No one was _saying it_, but a child didn't just _disappear_ with _clothing_ and a _maidservant_ in tow unless it was very much on _purpose_. Councilor Li Qiang was a father. His daughter was twice Princess Azula's age, and he and his wife had sent her three dresses as holiday gifts in the last six months alone. She was never allowed to wear any of them. _Unlike_ the General, he wasn't doing this because he was a _patriot_. He was doing this because he was a _father_, and no little girl should have that kind of _confused hunger_ in their eyes when they watch other girls prance around in dresses.)

* * *

Zuko found Dumpling. He'd been looking for her _everywhere_, but there she was, gently butting Noodle towards Zuko. He was confused for several minutes, because she kept screeching at him and running away, then quietly running back. It took longer than he would have liked to admit for his head-fog -_from praying so long_\- to clear. When it did, he followed after the insistent kit on quiet feet, and they slunk across the village bridges in the dark. He wasn't sure why they were doing so, but he was always up for sneaking. Noodle also seemed keen to explore and sneak -no surprise, as the kits loved to sneak around with him- and Zuko's interest was _piqued-not-abated_ when Dumpling lead him to the Crazy-scientists laboratory. 

They slipped in quiet and quick, _shadows in a well of shadows_. He could hear Dumpling pitter-pattering softly across the floor, and he used the soft, dim light coming through the cracks in the walls and door to navigate after her. They found a door -or rather, Dumpling _showed_ him where a door _was_. This was so cool, he gave her _good-girl_ scritches and all three of them slunk inside. The door lead to a small room, which was connected to a tunnel. The tunnel went down for a long time, and ended in the opening to a cave. A cave full of Fire Nation military men, who _didn't_ see Zuko and his companions because the three of them were _really good at sneaking_. 

(This was _less cool_, but a very good-bad thing his _very-good-girl_ had found, so he gave her more scritches, and then some for Noodle, because he was being extra quiet, and they snuck away again. He would have liked to explore the camp itself, but there were _sentries_ that were awake and fires raging. There weren't enough shadows in that cave to make sneaking worth it, _especially_ without his mask and two kits to protect. He had a lot of time to contemplate how very bad this all was on his way back up the tunnel, and the implications of the _well-maintained door_ that lead to a crazy-scientists lab. Bad. _Very, very bad_.)

* * *

* * *

* * *

(Going to be at work. I had to stop and rework things, because they went a little dark in my first pass. Need to try a different approach now, so that _tonight_ deadline has been moved to _tomorrow morning_.)

*Okay, before I even _posted_ these sketches on here, my _Danger!babies_ got fan art that was **_so wow_!** Go check out the **_amazing_** [Charcoal-Wolf!](https://charcoal-wolf.tumblr.com/post/189019650284/whoah-its-been-a-while-the-idea-belongs-to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Above sketches are what I work off of when I write, but the link has juicy, wonderful fan art! Also, a reminder that if you want to draw a King Serval, you _do not_ have to go by what I've drawn, I'd love to see your own interpretations if you were imagining them differently!


	13. Backed by bracing winds (and bad luck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHH wow, do I feel bad. I thought the previous chapter was fully posted and updated -turns out the _only_ updates I made were to the word doc I keep on my big computer. This has been the opps of the century.  
The PREVIOUS chapter IS FOR SURE 100% complete. I am so, so, sorry about that!  
Edit: Though apparently it updated for some and not others? _*So much confusion*_ Regardless! You guys get more special treats because I'm taking my sweet time here. 
> 
> Chapter Status: _100% COMPLETE_

Agni had been worried when he left the horizon the day before, closing his eye on his chosen warily. There had been something _off_ about the temple, something he couldn't _place_. He was hoping it was nothing, _had been nothing_, that he was simply paranoid because maybe he'd been a little too hard on Zhao the weeks before -but he'd deserved it- because the man's plans, from what his brother-in-bond told him, were worse somehow. It was with that thought that he peeked over the horizon that would show him his chosen, barely managing to greet his sister before he felt his magic freeze around him, his great heart stutter.

Flames and burning stone, his sister of the Northern Winds temple was _on fire_. He could hear screams and cries for help, little people running around like mice. Fujin Seiruka was screaming, angry and afraid, and trying to protect the people that had come to live in the shadow of her temple. She was using so much energy she couldn't afford to spare and on one of the center platforms -He could see his _chosen_ and they were- 

**_Oh. What have they done?_ **

**The Previous Evening**

Sokka had the _best day_. Rui Ho's plans and diagrams, his ideas for _progressing_ his village into a new era, were _fascinating_. Southern Water Tribe education was basic -the older women who ran it taught minor arithmetic and reading, and only _lightly_ touched on _writing_, because what use did they have for that in the arctic, isolated lands of their people?- but they maintained pretty _decent_ archives from when they _weren't so basic_, and Sokka had spent a lot of his free time in the last two odd years _scouring_ it. Being the only _able-bodied_ male in the tribe meant he needed to know _important_ things.

Things like how to make a chart of the stars to navigate by while at sea -also applicable to _land_, in case he got stranded while hunting- or how his ancestors had tactically outwitted other warring tribes, or hostile _nations. _Outwitting hostile nations usually equated to '_we used the water benders and sunk their boats in a _different _creative way than last time,_' but he'd been willing to take what he could get. He'd also stumbled over several scrolls about _science things._ Like the _technicalities_ behind Tui's spirit magic, the way their globe was affected by minor rotation -and how that played a part in _constellations_ shifting. Reading those had shown him that while he was a warrior, he was _also_ an academic, because his heart had _broken_ when he realized how little knowledge they had _really_ maintained after the fall of their tribe.

(Sokka had read the small amount of scrolls Zuko lugged around with him that _weren't_ maps -though he'd taken a heavy interest in _those_ too- or _bending scrolls_. A couple of plays, some non-fictional work about a swordsman's travels, and one story with _minor_ romantic elements, primarily focused on a soldier and his unit rescuing a team of archeologists from an ancient temple that was _possessed by a spirit_. Sokka hadn't minded it, and it had given him a very watered down view of life through Fire Nation eyes. He'd _gagged_ a couple of times, but according to Zuko, it was actually treasonous, if you read it in the right context. The explanations for why and how had taken an hour of _frustrated explaining_ via his steaming, _shouting_ buddy. It still boggled Sokka's mind.)

_So_. Spending time with Rui Ho, Machinist and _man of science_, who had a whole _plethora_ of information about the advances Sokka _didn't have records for_? Best. Day. Ever. Learning there was a gas leak somewhere in or around the temple? Not so cool. Getting to help the Machinist figure out a solution for plugging up _that_ problem and having someone -_who wasn't basically his Uncle_\- acknowledge that _he was intelligent_? _Best. Day. EVER._

By the time he couldn't ignore the _grumbling_ of his stomach anymore, he'd completely _missed_ Zuko disappearing in that sudden way he did -one moment _on the peripheral_ of Sokka's vision _poking around_, the next _gone_\- but he knew where he could find him. He split from the Machinist outside the man's lab, heading back the way he'd come. 

(Completely missing that the Machinist didn't head towards the 'in production,' bathhouse but slipped back inside his lab. He also missed the flash of pale cream and gold gently striped with deep, spotted black in the very corner of the lab. The former, he _should_ have taken note of as he turned to work the steam lift. The latter, _no one_ was supposed to notice because Dumpling was a _very good sneaker_.)

"Katara! You are never going to believe the day I've had." He announced as soon as he found her, sitting on the wall to one fo the temples above the _makeshift-so-cool_ village.

Katara looked up from gently rubbing an oiled piece of leather against her claws, making a shushing motion. At his baffled look, she turned and tilted her head to the round temple behind her, and Sokka followed the directional gesture. Just inside was what appeared to an alter -but he couldn't be sure- of a vaguely human-faced, multiple winged figure clutching snakes in its taloned feet. There were other carvings around it, but Sokka was too far to make out anything else. Aang and Zuko sat in front of that statue, a stick of incense placed directly in front of them.

(Iroh was presumably standing guard at the door, sitting in what he called Lotus position, his face turned inwards.)

Some of Sokka's good mood vanished, and he heaved himself up to sit next to Katara with slightly less enthusiasm than he might have a few minutes ago. He and Katara watched for a few minutes more, and after the third time the two boys dipped their heads in a bow, Sokka had picked up enough of the pattern to know that they'd probably be at it for a while. 

"So what happened?" Katara asked quietly, and Sokka drug his eyes away from the two children paying their respects to the long dead. "To make you so excited." She clarified when he didn't answer with anything but a small frown.

"Oh. _Well_, I guess ...Never mind, it was _just_ ... a good day." He shrugged, finding a spot in the village below to watch intently.

Katara reached out and pinched him -which didn't _really_ hurt, because they'd had to put their heavy coats and gloves back on to be up this high, but he still gave her a dirty look. It was sometimes the _principle_ of the matter when sisters were involved. 

"It's not _wrong_ that you had a _good day_, Sokka. Aang will understand if you're a _little_ more excited than he is." Katara reproached in that way she had that was both _irritated sister_ and _concerned mother_. It also said 'now tell me everything,' without her actually saying it. _Sisters_.

"Well, the Machinist showed me and Zuko how the steam pipes work, and told me about how he got the _idea_ for them -something about hot Earth vents a couple of miles away- and I got to see how they'd done the construction _so high up_! Then he took us to his _workshop" _here, he had to pause for breath, and try to modulate his voice a little, but Katara was watching him expectantly, "-I got to look at his _diagrams_, and he has _so much information_ about the latest sciences, and _so many scrolls_! He _gave_ me a couple, Katara! I know how you feel about _most science stuff_, so I won't go into detail, but some of _my_ theories about what information our tribe is _missing_ were right!" He gushed, practically bouncing where he sat. 

(Katara set her claws carefully back into their sheath and tensed, because if her brother _fell_ in his excitement, it would take a _lot_ of pull to make the snow gathered on the _hard cliffs below_ rise to meet him. She was suddenly aware of how Iroh might have been feeling while Zuko was _in the air with them_, and why he'd looked so _stiff_ when they'd stumbled into a landing.)

"That's _great_ Sokka!" She enthused, because while she wasn't particularly _fond_ of most science-related matters -she'd always preferred _histories_ and _local lore_ to arithmetic and sciences- Sokka was, and now _wasn't_ a '_tease your brother mercilessly_' moment, but a '_this is important for him_,' moment. 

(Despite what Sokka and Zuko both thought, she was fully aware of the distinction between the two.)

"That's not even the best part!" Sokka squealed quietly, bouncing a little more when he looked at her. "We were talking about a problem the village has been having with natural gas leaks, and _I_ helped him _solve it!_ He told me I was _really intelligent_, and _extremely clever_, and that I had good _abstract thinking skills!_" He finished with a final bounce and all the energy slowly seeped out of him. 

_That right there_ had been why it was _important_ for him. Katara had been _surrounded_ by strong women to look up to during her most trying formative years -because coming into womanhood _sucked_\- but Sokka _hadn't_. _All_ the men he looked up to were _gone_. There weren't any adult warriors around to tell him his footwork was _improving_, or that he was _good with tactics_, or to show him how to get a _better angle_ for his club swings.

Positive interaction between him and an older man was something her brother _needed_. She knew it was why he enjoyed spending time with Iroh -which had helped a lot, _especially_ after the old soldier had started training him- but Rui Ho was the _opposite_ side of the coin. Her brother wasn't _just_ a warrior. He was a _boy_ that _loved to learn_, and he was _starved_ for information. Katara could tease him about this later. _After_ everything had a chance to sink in, and there wasn't a risk of _actually hurting him_ with her words.

"It sounds like you had _fun_." She said mildly, mentally compiling a list of suitable, subtle ways to tease him about the praise while he smiled absently at the shroud of fog and clouds around the temple spires.

"I did have fun." He nodded, then shifted a little awkwardly, sending her a brief, relieved smile. "Thanks for listening." 

Katara smiled back, and now that he didn't look at risk of slipping off the edge of the wall, she pulled her claws back out. 

"How was your day?" He asked, after another companionable silence, and a little more mental digestion, and Katara smiled down at the weapon in her lap.

"Well, while you were off looking at diagrams and _talking_ science, _I_ went and did some _physical research_. Their gliders are _so cool!_ A little terrifying at first, but awesome!" She announced, slipping the glove for her claws onto her hand and twisting her wrist to reach a slightly odd spot on the claws.

"You went flying? Seriously?" Sokka groaned, looking a little put-out. "I can't _believe_ I missed that!"

"It gets better. Zuko joined us." Sokka drooped so much, he really was at risk of falling off the wall. 

"I bet his expression when Zuko jumped off the cliff was perfection." He whispered into the winds. 

(Fujin Seiruka quietly agreed that it had been, but you really had to have been there to understand why. Zuko and Aang finished about this time, and Zuko ran off to find Dumpling, whom Sokka was only just noticing wasn't sitting patiently with anyone, waiting for her favorite person. Aang lead them to the temple they'd temporarily put their bags in, and Katara started dinner to avoid fretting over where Dumpling could have run off to. Sokka's day kind of got worse from there, but he would always have the memories of one of the best _early evenings_ in his life.)

______

Zuko rushed into the small temple they were camping in -apparently on Fujin Seiruka's insistence- breathless and _panicking_. Dumpling collapsed at his feet, Noodle on his other side, and the small conversation that had been going on stopped. Uncle was looking at him in a familiar way -a way that he hadn't even realized the older man has _stopped_ looking at him lately.

"Zuko? What's wrong, you look like-" Katara started, standing slowly from where she'd been serving up dinner. 

"We have a _problem_!" He rasped, trying and failing to regulate his breathing. Uncle had stood and was walking towards him, calm in the eye of the oncoming storm.

"Nephew, you must restructure your breathing." He chided softly, and Zuko took a stumbling step back when Iroh would have reached out for him. 

If Uncle touched him he would let himself get pulled into the comfort, and he needed to be keyed up right now. It was giving him an incredible amount of focus on their problem. (Or he would be, if he could breathe right.) He was pacing before he was aware of the _urge to pace_ building, his breaths turning a little shallow. Dumpling mewled at him worriedly from the floor, and Sokka and Aang were standing now too, watching him like he was insane. 

"There were _at least_ twenty-five, not a full squadron -but the others _have_ to be close by!" He managed to get the most important information out, his brain frantically shoving all the information he had at him. The problem was that it couldn't all come out at once. "I think the Mechanist _knows_, because why else would there be a secret door to their encampment unless he _did_?" Iroh looked alarmed now, and Zuko wished he could breathe enough to explain, but he kept seeing the people here being burned alive while the mad-scientist laughed. 

(There was another, newer picture in his head involving how Teo had ended up so hurt. He didn't like it. The panic increased with each new way the boy's father could have _done that to him._) 

A slim, familiar hand suddenly grabbed his neck and he found himself being forced onto a stool that hadn't been there a minute ago. Iroh was crouching in front of him, and Aang was speaking above him, calm and steady, and a lot nervous. 

"Breathe Zuko. In and out, remember? _In_," Zuko found himself breathing with the monk, his mind stuttering over the sudden change of focus, "_Out_. Good. Now, don't stress, don't think, two words answers are best. _Who_ has an encampment here?" He asked it like he already knew the answer and didn't want to.

There was a cup of tea shoved into his shaking hands at the same time Dumpling found her way to him, curling up tiredly beneath his bent head. His hands clenched around the teacup, and Zuko inexplicably felt like _sagging in relief_ and _screaming in confusion_.

(He felt outnumbered and outmatched. Sokka was crouching on his other side a bowl of stew in hand. Katara had been the one to shove the tea at him, and Uncle was gently patting his shoulder. That Aang was the one taking charge was both _natural_ and _confusing_.)

"Fire Nation." He croaked, letting the warmth from the tea seep into his palms, his breath a little easier now.

The air around them stilled, and it wasn't just a '_the group as a whole was quietly contemplating this_' silence. It was a '_there is something else here and it's suddenly paying very close attention_' kind of stillness. He could only imagine what Fujin Seiruka was going to do when she found out his people were _back_. He didn't think it was going to be good.

"Okay." Aang croaked back, his hand fluttering against Zuko's pulse before he snapped his hand away and _took over pacing_ in front of Zuko. "_Okay_, you said it wasn't a full squadron. That means they could just be a ...a _scouting party_ that got lost in the mountains and is _forcing_ the Mechanist to house them while they collect themselves." Aang said slowly, and Zuko thought that on their list of options, _that_ probably should have been slotted into the '_optimistic hope_,' category, and not '_first instinct_.' 

"_Or_," Sokka inserted, his mind racing behind suddenly wild eyes, "knowing our luck, this is an _elaborate trap_ tailored _specifically_ to draw in the supposedly lost Avatar. The same Avatar that's made a pain of himself in _several_ Fire Nation occupied ports, and is responsible for the destruction of a culturally important temple." 

Sokka got up to pace, shoving the bowl of stew into Zuko's hands -but not before _stealing_ some, the leech- and joining Aang in the pacing. Zuko was saved from trying to juggle everything in his hands when Iroh took his tea and then motioned sternly for him to eat. 

(Now that he was no longer letting panic and fear ride his brain -_completely_, they were still _there_, in the back of his mind- he realized how _hungry_ he was.)

"I'm sure there has to be a _better explanation_, Sokka." Aang whispered, eyes wide and stubbornly hopeful. 

Aang's biggest problem was that he was _twelve_, and despite how worldly he seemed, he'd had an incredibly sheltered life before he went to sleep in La's domain. He was too ready to _trust_ people, in the hopes that giving trust would be trust _returned_. Zuko could easily overlook the eccentric ideas and occasional petulance, because the boy should be _allowed_ to feel those things. What he had a harder time with was the occasionally blind optimism that wanted to see sunshine where there was only dirt. It was times like now Zuko had a harder time not shouting at the monk.

(But shouting at people for the way they thought or the things they believed accomplished nothing.)

"Look, I _want_ to believe that Rui Ho _wouldn't_ be in league with the Fire Nation, I really do! _He's a man of science!_ But if the past few months have taught me anything, it's that _personal perceptions are sometimes wrong_." Sokka motioned to Zuko with a pointed look. "Case in point. Our _shouty friend_ over there looks super Fire Nation -but he's distinctly _Zuko_ in behavior."

Zuko paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth to glare at Sokka, and the only thing that saved the Water Tribe idiot form some_ justified shouting_ was Uncle tapping the bowl meaningfully. Katara smacked her brother on the arm -and not _lightly_, he saw Sokka flinch- and Aang shuffled in indecision. 

"But why and _how_ could he possibly be working for them? We were all over this village today, and I didn't see _anything_ Fire Nation." Katara cut in, standing in the warriors resting pose -feet braced apart, hands loosely clenched at her sides, she must have picked it up from him and Uncle. 

"Actually, the way they are using steam here is distinctly Fire Nation. True, I have never seen it used to _lift_ someone to another level, but it all _looks_ Fire Nation." Iroh cut in, taking Zuko's bowl and patting him on the knee lightly. 

(That action alone shouldn't have been able to instill a measure of calm and peace in the boy, but it did.)

"Before you make any plans, remember that the stalking leopard wolf hunts best in a pack. It is best if we go and speak to this Rui Ho in person, and come to the truth of the matter." Iroh gently set the bowl in the wash bucket to soak, and straightened his shoulders almost imperceptibly. His Uncles training regimen and diet had taken him a long way from soft roundness -he cut a formidable figure against the firelight. Sokka shifted in response to Iroh's change in stance, and Katara walked over to where her claws were sheathed. Even Aang lost some of his hesitation, subtly standing firmer. 

(If his Uncle hadn't _intended _to accidentally train them all to act as a unit, he should have put more thought into offering them training 'for a good, healthy workout.' As a man who'd spent most of his life in the military, he knew what happened when you trained young recruits that also relied on you for guidance.)

(Iroh _had_ considered this possibility, he just hadn't _anticipated_ the children calling him _Uncle_ and picking up the small military ques he used and made without thought. He couldn't be upset that they did so, because it made it easier to keep them all _on track_, and most especially because as a result, his Nephew's stunted social skills were improving greatly.)

The air swirled around them once and then rushed out of the temple. 

"No time like the _present_ then. If Rui Ho _is_ working with the fire nation, it needs to _stop_. This temple has seen enough bloodshed." Aang said quietly, gripping his glider a little tighter before he took a deep, shaky breath.

They left as a _unit_ to find Rui Ho and get answers. 

* * *

The old man standing in front of her now reminded her of _Uncle_, but skinnier and meaner. She _kind of_ liked him. She didn't like that he kept giving her that arch look adults sometimes gave her when they were _doubting _her. Resisting the urge to set him on fire was a new study in _self-control_. The adults were talking -about boring things, like hostile takeovers, and chances of betrayal, and if they had bothered to just ask _Azula_ what her plans were, she could have _told them_. Or maybe she wouldn't.

More fun if she kept them guessing. Regardless, the adults were being _boring_, and there was a whole _ice palace_ around her -why anyone would live in such a thing was beyond her, but then, it did show _resourcefulness_, using what they had at their disposal- and they weren't actually looking. 

(It was really _their own fault_ that she slipped away, the pale, tan hide of her hood purposefully drawn up over her head. Only the people _looking_ for her would see her in the shadows, and adults never looked where they should. This was the most _Zuzu_ thing she could have done, but her brother had always had good _first instinct_ -it was every decision he made _after_ that made him a _dum dum_.)

(In the deep, deep quiet of her mind, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she _missed_ her brother. She had no idea how she'd beaten him here. He was _supposedly_ on a Flying Bison. Having a flying animal _you could ride_ was having the ability to fly in a _straight line_ -_why_ _wasn't he here yet?_ What _troublesome_ dum dum thing had he done _now?_)

She couldn't find the answer to these questions in any of the cold shadows she slunk through. She did find some fish stuck in a tiny pond, glittering _a little_ prettily in the early moonlight and contemplated the _lack_ of turtle-duck shapes in the water with a sneer. Then she found the Icy Savage Princess. Her night became _substantially_ more interesting.

* * *

Rui Ho's small panic when they confronted him didn't last long before he swung into complete remorse. His tale of a Fire Nation lord _using him_ for military improvements in return for not killing his entire village was both _wild_, and _just feasible enough_, Zuko couldn't really discount it. It sounded like something one of his more power-mad countrymen might do. Even the scientists' description of the man, when pressed, was _exactly_ as most Councilmen dressed and acted back home.

(There were a few that had always been _kind_ to him, in discreet ways. Coincidently, these were the same ones that were even now _making plans_ -they hadn't been in the crowd that watched Ozai burn half his face off, but they'd heard enough about it and the subsequent way Azula fled the country, and they let _both_ of these things quietly fuel them as they moved forward. Zuko wouldn't know this until much, much later.)

They were in the middle of trying to make a plan when a small bell gave a single ring, and Rui Ho panicked. Zuko and Dumpling slipped into the shadows by the hidden door, Uncle positioned himself with Aang behind several bulky projects, and Katara and Sokka positioned themselves across from Zuko, using the shadows the way he'd shown them.

(Katara did it better than Sokka, but that was okay. Between the two of them, Sokka was the frontman, and Katara was the scout. Only _one_ of them was meant to be seen as potentially dangerous.)

The man who _imperiously_ strode through the door, _without any backup_, was very definitely a Govoner or Councilman -possibly given a position so far North because he'd angered someone- and Zuko was reminded why he hated court politics in a short minute. Or maybe less. 

"You know what happens if you don't stop making excuses, Machinist. _Where are the plans?_" The man growled.

Rui Ho fluttered and flustered, and turned anxiously towards his table, shuffling through papers like a pig-chicken looking for scraps. Aang was outright _vibrating_ with repressed _sad-aggression_. 

(Zuko could tell because from his vantage point he saw Iroh lay a staying hand on the boy's shoulder, and that hand _shook_. There was an impossible breeze in the room.) 

"Here! _Here_ -just- take it." The Machinist said in defeat, handing over a hastily packed carrier tube. 

The Fire Nation councilor-look-a-like did take it, growling and huffing as he tucked it into his robes. 

"And the _other matter_?" Rui Ho tensed visibly, slowly shaking his head. 

"I can't make it work." That the Machinist trembled as he said this, took a nearly imperceptible step back, told Zuko that he expected backlash for this admittance.

Aang must have seen it too, because the boy looked so focused, Zuko wasn't sure who he should be watching. 

"Well, then you know the price for _failure_. Now tell me, who will you sacrifice to keep this pathetic village going?" There was something dark and cruel and not right in that. Zuko knew what usually followed those words. "Perhaps ... _Your son_?"

(He hated when he was right. Turns out he should have been watching Aang, because one moment Rui Ho was stuttering through a plea, and the next, Aang was bending the Machinist back, stepping into the room with clenched fists. The probably-a-Councilman looked both startled and like the Fire Festival had come early.)

"Enough!"

The small monk shouted with surprising force, and that mystic breeze in the room _swelled_ around the edges. Zuko remembered, in a sudden flash, the way Agni's spirit power had seared on Crescent island, and he had to do some quick calculations in his head. If Fujin Seiruka created a tornado of wind with them as the focal point, they'd either be _thrown off the cliffside_ or _smashed into the Air Temple above_. 

"_You_ and _men like you_ have already caused enough problems here. This Temple isn't your _playground_. _These mountains aren't your domain._"

There was something just slightly off about Aang's voice. It was still _his_ voice, but it was also _old_, and _angry_, and filled with _non-human power_. Aang's Northern mother wasn't influencing him to the same level Roku had, but there was still a clear _influence_ being placed on the young nomads' emphasis and words. 

(Fujin Seiruka had lost the people she once called _hers_ -these new ones, so _young_ and _fragile_ and _helpless_, weren't hers yet, but she had taken responsibility for them when they settled on _her mountain_. Agni's wayward, dark-hearted children would not take _another_ people from her.) 

The _probable-councilor_ moved with surprising swiftness, especially given the heavy robes he wore, advancing not towards Aang, but back towards the hidden door. Zuko slipped out from his hiding spot to intercept, just as the man's hand flicked out and a small, heavy-looking knife smacked into the little bell that had wrung before. Zuko couldn't stop his forward momentum fast enough when the man followed the movement with a turn. They came face to face just as there was a chilled breeze on Zuko's back. Dumpling growled at his feet while the man smiled impossibly wider, looking a lot like _Zhao_ with every passing second. 

"_The Banished Prince!_" He crowed. 

It was no surprise to Zuko that things only got _worse_ from there. 

(As it always did _anytime_ someone reminded the universe that he was _Ozai's firstborn_. They were all so lucky Uncle Iroh was going to be Fire Lord, because Zuko was _positive_ that his terrible luck would have been a _detriment_ to any attempt to rule.)

* * *

"How is that even _burning_?" The Savage Princess asked incredulously. 

Azula gave an elegant shrug and smiled _serenely_ at the blue flames dancing over the ice, consuming that _offending document_. The smile was _perfectly calculated_ to match Yue's, calm and docile, and she made sure to _stare_ at the sexist Chief in front of her while she did it. He shifted _appropriately_ where he sat. 

(Tui _laughed_ above them, snarled on their behalf and the moonlight on the ice seemed to shiver. Yue smiled in response. There was something about this daughter of Flame and ash that she couldn't help _appreciating_.)

Yue's father and the Fire Nation Princesses _Guardian_ watched with opposed expressions. Her fathers was horrified and alarmed, and she could see Pakku taking a familiar stance behind him. The fellow Princesses Guardian was smiling at the Princess like she'd just done something particularly amusing.

"I'm _sorry_, I was _briefly overcome_ with a trifling fit of _boredom_. You were saying ... _something_? Something _droll _and _long_-_winded_, possibly about the _gentler female sex?_" she inquired in a tone of voice that shifted between matching Yue's butterfly-moth soft tones, and the _harsher-slicing-edge_ of her much younger, regular tone. There was a pit in her stomach that wouldn't go away, but she was_ not-anxious_, even if it was long past when Zuzu _should_ have arrived, even if he and Uncle and _whoever_ _else_ they traveled with needed to stop for supplies. 

_Something was very wrong_. 

* * *

"They've broken through the lower temple walls!"

Sokka shouted from his post, leaning carefully out a slim window. Zuko reached over to tug him out a few minutes before a flare of fire hit the stone, lighting the edges of the window ominously. The Water Tribe boy was breathing wrong again, so Zuko patted his head and made soothing Uncle sounds until his breathing evened out. Then he motioned to Dumpling and they went to join the rest.

The refugees scrambling around them were doing so with _panic_, frantically checking and rechecking their own work. They had a _rough idea_ for a plan to get the Fire Benders _permanently_ off the mountain, but they were all aware that they would only have one chance. Sokka joined him a second later, rubbing absently at his burned tunic sleeve, and Zuko resisted the urge to check his arm _again_. It was fine. Sokka was fine. Katara had made sure of it. 

(Katara could heal. _Waterbending could heal_. He was _incredibly grateful_ for this fact, because those searing moments where Sokka had gotten caught by a stray flame had been lethal to Zuko's state of mind. If he stopped to check them all for burns one more time, it would be eating into the time they were supposed to use to get into position, and they couldn't afford that. He would check them again later. _If_ he survived this.)

"Everyone knows their positions?" Sokka asked, eyeing the roughly painted map of the temple -via Aang, who'd done it mostly from memory- and Zuko nodded, echoed by everyone else. 

Uncle looked both worried and furious. Zuko refused to meet his eye, because _it had to be done_.

"Remember Nephew -the hunting tiger wasp has only a second to snap up the stinging scorpion hound before it is caught. Do not let yourself be outmaneuvered." He said gruffly, and Zuko nodded, with the appropriate disgusted look for proverbs, before he reached to carefully pat Iroh's shoulder. 

"I'll be _fine_ Uncle. I know what _my_ job is and I know what _your_ job is." Uncle gave him a firm look that conveyed more than Zuko was willing to think about, then they parted.

Zuko's mission was clear, and he wasn't about to fail it. There were innocent lives depending on this plan _not going wrong_. Dumpling and Noodle fell in next to him as he slipped into the shadows, and the count down began. All they needed to do was distract and annoy, possibly sabotage the Fire nation troops below for thirty minutes. That wouldn't be _too hard_. 

For the first fifteen minutes, it wasn't. It was all _shadows_ and _sneaking_, and _snapping ropes_ while trying not to think about the _lives he was ending_. It was fine when he was replacing their blasting jelly barrels with empty barrels and then kicking the full ones off the cliffside to the entrance below. Then -

(Then it _wasn't fine_. Somewhere, _someone's_ hand slipped, and a cavern full of natural gas _exploded_. It shook the whole mountain, and blew Zuko's cover when he tumbled out of hiding keeping Dumpling and Noodle safe. Then it wasn't fine at all, because the plan was partially ruined. He fought back, naturally. Probably would have managed to slip away, too, if that too-light on his feet mountain of a man hadn't _shown up out of nowhere_ and knocked him down. Now he kneeled -_begrudgingly_\- with his wrists cuffed in _good steel_ behind his back.)

"When the Fire Lord hears of this, I will be welcomed home like royalty." The councilman above him cooed, eyes gleaming with far off ambition.

Dumpling and her brother had slipped away, like _good kitties_, but he knew his girl was prowling close by. He could hear the particular soft scratch of nails on stone that most people ignored, but it was all _Dumpling_ in the way the weight translated through the sound. This was _less good-girl_ of her. He was going to need to find a way to make her _leave_. She should have followed Noodle, wherever he went.

(To _Appa_, naturally. To handle a _big threat_ you needed something _even bigger and even more threatening_, and Papa-mama-Appa _was_ that even bigger threat. Noodle was half right.)

"Nothing to say, traitor?" The man hissed, breaking his own gloating monologue as behind him, other portions of Rui Ho and Sokka's plan went smoothly. Several men were toppled over the cliffside after mysteriously slipping, and there were _shapes_ above them in the _hazy-night-fog-lit-by-fire_.

"I don't answer to _you_." Zuko growled, glaring his level best at the man above him. 

"Ah, yes, _that's right_. You answer to the _Avatar_ now." Zuko let him think that. He didn't have to explain himself to this foolish, cruel, _ignorant_ man. He wasn't worth getting upset over -not when Zuko knew who he followed. Ozai's people never changed, but believing in Iroh as his Fire Lord was one of the _easiest things_ about Zuko's banished life. 

"Still nothing to say?" The man pressed. When Zuko remained stubbornly silent, he smiled with all his teeth and looked towards the temple spires above them. "I bet your Uncle will have some things to say, won't he?"

(Zuko wondered how hot his fire would have to be to melt Fire Nation steel.)

He motioned to a few of the guards standing by, the ones that were smart enough to stay clustered close instead of spreading out. Their forces were still slowly making their way up the cliff, but Zuko wasn't the only one who'd noticed that explosion, or the way _small units kept disappearing_. Zuko was very glad that Fujin Seiruka had managed something for that.

(The answer to his question was too hot. His hands would be useless after. Maybe if he was better at bending with his feet, but he wasn't. That was something he would have to work on.)

"Make our Prince more appropriate. We're about to seek an audience with the Avatar."

(Zuko could see from the _glint_ in their eyes and the way they whispered _'Traitor'_ that this was going to hurt.)

** _Now_ **

Dumpling made an appearance. She came screeching from the shadows, an unholy abomination of fur and feathers that jumped right through and into the flames thrown at her without hesitation. When she swiped at the men working him over so he'd be a more 'presentable' hostage to the Dragon of the West, she did so in a way that scratched their armor and ended with one man's face-mask gone -along with one of his eyes.

(She disappeared again as quickly as she came, but she was there, slinking in the shadows, growling ominously anytime one of them twitched in his direction.)

When Zuko could breathe, he gave a low, firm whistle, one that he'd trained her to acknowledge as 'go home.' Home, in this case, was Appa's saddle. A small silence echoed his whistle, and then an eerie, dangerous screech of denial. The Councilman sent men to look for the 'rabid creature,' and then Zuko was being drug through one of the openings they'd made in the temple. They set him up with several firey fists pointed in his direction, and the Councilman took great joy in quietly organizing his speech in front of Zuko. 

(This was just more affirmation that _Zuko hated him_. His monologue left something to be _desired_ and was too _long-winded_ to be effectively ominous like he wanted. He should read more play scripts. From somewhere in the temples above, he heard a muffled, startled sound that was half outrage, half panic, and all _half-way-to-loosing-his-shit_ Avatar.)

"General Iroh!" The Councilman shouted into the silence, smugging at the temples above. 

(Which was the wrong way to be looking. Zuko could almost _feel_ the danger approaching them, and it wasn't coming from the temples.)

"I have your Nephew -he wasn't _properly attired for negotiations_, of course, being a _traitor on the run_," he continued, oblivious to the men who'd stiffened and were shifting nervously, "so we went ahead and _helped him_. If you don't want him to be _further assisted_, you _will_ bring me the Avatar -preferably alive, so I have proof for _my Fire Lord._" An echoing silence was his only response. 

(There was a burning itch under Zuko's skin, and he realized that it would be sun-break soon. They'd prepared for this confrontation all through the night, and all that careful planning had been botched now, thanks to him. Pretty soon, Agni's eye would open, and the fires around him wouldn't just be warm -they'd be searing. He wanted the energy to do more than glare at everything and everyone around him.)

"I'll take your silence to mean that you don't care what happens to the boy, then?" The Councilor asked, turning to smug in Zuko's direction. "Very well, I'm sure _Fire Lord Ozai_ will enjoy having his firstborn home for _appropriate punishment_. What about you Avatar? What will you do to defend this temple?"

With that question, one of the men at the front turned and started setting some of the leftover wooden structures on fire. Another appalled sound front he temples above, but still no _real_ response. That was good, but also bad. Aang and Katara sometimes did the stupidest things when they were quiet. Sokka wouldn't be able to stop them because he was working on another part of the plan.

And then the mountain of a man that had knocked Zuko down while he and the kits were trying to run went _flying over his head_ -at almost the exact moment Agni's light hit the far sky.

(Zuko could feel it, could almost sense the Diety spirits renewed gaze.)

"**_How dare you._**" Iroh growled behind him -only it wasn't really his _Uncles_ voice.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Sokka had some things to say, so minor delay in finishing this.  
Okay. this chapter is done. To be concluded in the next one!
> 
> Above image:: There we go. Katara's claws as imagined by me.


	14. Goodbyes, Hellos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to get around to because of Thanksgiving, but I'm back now and will hopefully pick up again. Thinking of switching over to Azula's story, which I have started, just not _posted_. 
> 
> This Chapter is 100% COMPLETE.

“**_How dare you._**”

Soft words, nearly a _growl_, and the soldiers around him turned in startlement. The look on the councilors' face was somewhere between _abject awe_ and _disbelieving terror_, and the armored soldiers took small steps back. The air felt like it was boiling with _repressed rage_ and _unbearable heat_. He couldn’t turn to look himself, but he was positive that the look on his Uncle’s face would have given even _Azula_ pause.

(He saw his Uncles’ expression at the Avatars temple. It had been the angriest he’d _ever_ been around Zuko, but it had made an impression. _Then_ the soldiers surrounding them had been nervous. _These ones were terrified and trying not to show it._)

He wanted to get up, to stand, but breathing had already been hard, and he didn’t think he was doing it right anymore, and his legs _hurt_. Dumpling was there, between one blink and the next, hissing and swiping at the soldier in front of him until he stumbled back. His silly, beautiful girl curled up between his knees and spread her wings, hissing some more. He wanted the energy to reprimand her at least a little. Zuko was tired. More, he was _exhausted_.

(Uncle was here. Agni was with them. Uncle would make sure to do what Zuko couldn’t, would make sure the people here were protected from the threat of the Fire Nation. He knew his uncle would do this with _certainty_. He was also suddenly aware that when they’d roughed him up earlier, they’d hit his head too hard -it had bounced off that mat the Councilor stood on. _Heads shouldn’t do that_\- and broken or bruised something that made it hard to control his breaths. A small part of his mind was worried about all of that. The rest of him was focused on the sounds around him.)

His former countrymen had broken out of their fear when the Councilor ordered them to attack and _ran_, not even waiting to see if his orders were followed. There was movement around Zuko, but he could feel the soft weight of Agni’s presence mixed with Uncles calm, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift his glare from the stones just in front of him and Dumpling.

(He had the strangest notion that if he softened at all in this moment he would fall. He both wanted to nap -because no one would notice if he did- and knew he needed to stay awake.)

A rush of sound that could have been a roar. The noise became like a bizarre melody around him. The hard _shuffle-thump_ of heavy boots, moving too fast through their katas to keep up momentum. The whisper-soft slap of flesh-on-armor and the distinct hissing crack that followed. In the distance, and on occasion, there was a rushing clang of sword-on-armor, but he only noticed that after the soft-heavy-loud groan of a bison somewhere. Those last two things didn’t seem right, but Zuko was too afraid to try and lift his head.

(It felt fuzzy, and it ached, pounding almost in time to the shuffle of movement around him. He wondered if Uncle-Agni would mind if he set aside the mantle of warrior for just a _few minutes_. He was very tired, and it was very heavy. Under the comfort of Agni’s glare, he focused on breathing between the moments.)

* * *

Iroh had caught a glimpse of his boy, the fires lit around him uncaring and too close, and his heart had started pounding with a rush. He’d given the people he oversaw, and the frigid waters he and young Katara had put together, over to a competent woman that knew what was expected and _abandoned his post_. He could feel the itch under his skin that said it would be day-break soon, that Agni’s eye would peek over their horizon. This was fortuitous, because Iroh would need the strength of his light to handle this new development.

He snuck around their forces, joining Sokka’s team in the fogs, taking out as many of their forces as he could while heading directly for his Nephew. A shadow slid up alongside him, a flash of blue in the dim orange haze, and young Sokka was there, watching him with wide, panicking eyes.

(Sokka had been using a glider to direct his portion of the people. He had seen Zuko before Iroh did -of course, he was here now, instead of bossing the villagers around. These adults were perfectly capable of following orders, and Sokka wasn’t _blind_. He’d seen the way they’d been looking at Iroh and Zuko after Rui Ho confessed, and the two Fire Benders admitted they could only help with _probable tactics_ because neither of them had contact with their nation _anymore_. He knew these people would hesitate in any rescue attempt, whether they knew it or not. That _wasn’t_ what Sokka needed to save his battle buddy.)

Together, they made their way to the entrance the Councilor had made. Sokka chose to be the flank-man, circling around the entrance to the side, hidden by fog that followed them, _had been following them_, all night. Iroh waited until the fool of a councilor was done speaking, when he could feel Agni’s attention on the distant, hazy horizon. He reached for the spirit deities’ energy, and the exact moment that Agni became aware of what was happening, he was ready.

Heat and flame, a terrible boiling under his skin that was _familiar_ and _new_. He felt Agni’s conscious mind overlap his own like a shroud. He was not the God’s host, but a willing vessel for a small portion of pure, burning energy. He reached for the large soldier standing behind his Nephew and turned the man sharply. The white mask that stared back at him did so with surprise, a moment before Iroh slipped his leading foot around the man’s boot, and gave a firm pivot, hands grasping deep red armor. He sent the behemoth flying a heart-beat later, crashing into several other soldiers. When Iroh spoke, he spoke with all the _repressed fury_ he’d carried around within. He spoke as _two minds_ with _one mouth_, and _no patience left for the fools of his nation_.

“**_How dare you_**.”

Simple, direct words, and they got the soldiers' attention, if their flying Komodo Rhino friend hadn’t already. When they looked at him, they looked at him like he was a ghost given form. He wondered how much of that had to do with his own stature, and how much had to do with Agni’s presence around him.

(It was both. Aang and Katara would tell him later_, much later_, that looking at him had been like looking at one of Yama’s minions. He had been terrifying and alive with fury, and appeared to be on fire.)

The Councilor -Yang Chin! He _remembered_ now. Banished to the Earth Kingdom colonies for insubordination during _Azulon’s_ time- looked at him and instead of continuing his act as a brave leader, the coward that lived within him took control.

“Don’t just _stand there_, subjugate the _traitor_!” He screeched, then turned and fled. That only served to make _Iroh-Agni_ angrier.

He saw the exact moment that Zuko could no longer hold himself up, despite the many bruises, and elected to set aside his anger until he could take a look at his _Chosen-Nephew_. The _fools_ around him had probably damaged the boys head, and Zuko wouldn’t have paid any attention to it because he had _terrible self-preservation instinct_. The soldiers around him broke from their frozen states, and Iroh-Agni distantly wished they hadn’t.

(He saw Lu Ten in their faces. Willing and eager to obey orders and be brave, young enough to believe that numbers mattered. This wouldn’t stay his hand, not when Zuko was involved.)

“**_I lost one son to this war already. You will not take another_**.”

He roared -a true roar, nothing like what he had made before the ancient Sun Warriors. Then they were _dancing_, but he seemed to be the only one that knew the steps. This was good for him, and bad for the soldiers around him. The first of their numbers to reach him flew at him with the basic katas for the Salamander Monkey set. Iroh-Agni responded by stomping into the Elephant Bear stance and using the boy’s momentum to slap himself -and those surrounding them- into oblivion. When that soldier was no longer usable, Iroh tossed him into a couple of the non-benders and spun his way into someone else’s _personal space_.

Movement became hazy and distant, the parts of him that were Iroh able to trip and disarm, fight and overpower -all while keeping track of his Nephew, who was slumped slightly where he kneeled, his Dumpling curled protectively in front of him. The parts of him that were shrouded by Agni were stoking the fires towards him, building a wall of heat, making the fires dance to his tune. Those bending were more than confused when their fires wouldn’t flare, just spark, when their chests felt heavy with _bitter cold _instead of _giving warmth_.

An older soldier -possibly a woman, if the _cunning way_ she approached him with the slithering Cobra Fox kata was anything to go by- got in close to him and they traded counteracting blows for several heartbeats. Iroh found an opening in her stance and twisted her over his shoulder with a firm, fiery punch to her armor, and he made sure to knock her head into the fellow that ran at them with a knife.

(He took the knife, used it to cut the straps on several pieces of armor for his next opponent. Armor design hadn’t changed in the last fifty years, and he was once a boy that had polished his and his commanding officers to a near _gleam_. He left the knife sitting in another man’s shoulder -he’d seen this one reach out to drag Zuko’s head up at some point, an unforgivable crime- the blood making partially broken fingers unable to attend to his wound.)

He bowdlerized his way through their numbers until their fallen lay unconscious and wounded in a trail behind him, creating a hazy semicircle in the minor courtyard of Fujin Seiruka’s temple. For a short period, there was silence, soldiers that had crawled their way into the fray late unsure weather to watch the _billowing fog_ behind them, or the _raging man_ in front of them. Regardless, they couldn’t retreat -there were soldiers in the fog that they couldn’t keep track of any longer- and advancing into the fiery ring around the old general seemed like a terrible idea.

When he turned to them and appeared to be aflame with rage, his gaze as bright and burning as Agni’s above them. They looked into his luminous, human eyes, and then to Agni’s eye above, and those among them that were weakened by the bitter cold understood without being told.

(This was judgment. They had done something terribly wrong here, and this was their _punishment_.)

They looked at this bitterly enraged _former crown prince_, at the boy behind him beaten and bruised, and they were _confused_. They thought of their commanding officer promising that they were doing a _great service for their people_, rooting out vicious _rebels_ hiding in the mountains. They thought of being told that the rebellion here threatened _not just_ their Fire Lord, _but Agni’s vision of the future_.

_And yet_.

Agni stood above them, bright and burning, but they couldn’t feel his warmth. Former General Iroh stood before them, and he was imbued with spirit flames, and could very much still bend. Only some of them realized what this might mean. They did all they could think of when faced with insurmountable odds and judgment from their spirit deity.

Those who had weapons dropped them and slowly kneeled. Those who were benders dropped straight to their knees, hands tucked firmly against abdomens. Those that continued to stand, both for the beliefs of their current Fire Lord and in defiance of one they viewed as a _traitor_, had made their choice. All those men still able to stand after their initial encounter with Iroh remained standing _stubbornly_. So be it. _Agni could not afford to suffer fools_.

The fires coalesced around Iroh, rising and forming a twisting dragon of flame and light with a human-like torso and arms that grew from a mostly serpentine body. It sported an ill-proportioned, twisting neck, and a single, burning eye. The dragon surveyed them with _sad-angry-hurt-rage_, then _roared_. A swirl of fire exploded and spread over Iroh’s head, and a blinding light overtook the courtyard -a beacon in the early morning that was seen for hundreds of miles.

It _terrified_ those refugees that thought they would turn to ash, Earth Kingdom people flinching from flames with startled gasps. Aang and Katara ducked behind a fallen wall, and Sokka, where he’d been _fighting_ (see: swinging his sword wildly at a couple that _just wouldn’t stop getting up_) with several soldiers, dove behind an elegant pillar.

(Only the fire didn’t burn. )

It swallowed the soldiers whole without burning, turned blue around the edges, and then faded like a swarm of fire-moth-flies. The lights danced over and around terrified people, until they were enticed to slowly reach for twirling warmth, and comforted those who were left behind. The temple around them was un-scorched. A startled quiet -with the exception of those few teens that had been allowed to participate in the battle happily trying to catch the spirit lights- followed as eyes turned from where the apparition of Agni had been to Former General Iroh.

(The lights faded with inattention, swirling into the early morning sky and disappearing. Few would think to broach the subject of exactly what happened while Iroh was in the temple. Everyone would be wondering about it after he left.)

Iroh wasn’t burnt, just rumpled and worried as he slowly crouched in front of Zuko and looked the boy over as gently as possible. Sokka was there minutes later, carefully dragging tools out of one of his pouches and contemplating the shackles on Zuko’s wrists. The young boy leaned into Iroh and glared at those watching them. Iroh felt the boy trembling and knew it was taking all his foolish boy's pride to keep himself vertical.

He helped Sokka get the steel shackles off, then, with Aang and Katara acting as buffers, they drug Zuko into one of the smaller side temples. It took hours after that to make his Nephew accept treatment, and during the course of that, they remembered their unexpected _surprise_ from the night before. Water bending could heal. Of course, It would do so much better if Katara could figure out how she’d _accidentally_ done it to his head.

After he was patched up, Zuko insisted on _getting up_ and moving around on his own, thinking he was going to _help_ them with the after-battle work. He fell asleep on his feet after Iroh finally held up his hands and stood back, and got promptly tucked into a bedroll. They stuck Dumpling, Noodle -who had spent the last portion of the fight with Appa, shoving people off the edge of the cliff- and Sokka next to him so he wouldn’t disappear while they were handling the remaining Fire Nation soldiers.

(This was a true test for Iroh, still angry from the sight of his Nephews bruised face. They found that most of the young recruits that had surrendered had done so both out of confusion -over Iroh’s presence- and fear of Agni. When prompted to explain what they had been told, Rui Ho and his people weren’t just offended, they were outraged at being labeled as a ‘band of renegades,’ and a ‘rebel alliance.’ Iroh quietly explained the truth of the situation to them as a group and had the satisfaction of watching quiet horror color their features.)

“Well, I can’t just_ let them go_!” Rui Ho whisper shouted, pointing at the elected leaders of the soldiers, his scraggly eye-brows twitching. “They know where we live! Why would I risk that?”

Iroh and Aang were quietly trying to find a way to answer that when one of the women stepped forward slowly, bowing deeply to Rui Ho and the adults elected to stand with him in the meeting.

“With all due respect, we don’t wish to go, until we’ve repaid our dishonor to you.”

This threw the Earth Kingdom refugees for a loop, and had Iroh settling back where he sat idly, smiling.

(He wondered how many of them were now questioning similar missions. How many of them _had been_ questioning similar missions, and more, what they would do now. This would be a good start, if they could prove themselves.)

Aang stepped forward into the negotiations, desperately trying to make things civil. Iroh let him. He was _tired_, but awake and worried. Agni’s presence had grown weak against his skin. The Deity Spirit had likely expended too much energy with what he’d done, would need to rest and recuperate for a few days. That was fine, especially since they would likely be traveling for the next little while. He hoped.

(He completely forgot, in the haze of memories that were only distantly his, that the Councilor had disappeared long before he and Agni dispersed of the threat against Fujin Seiruka’s Temple. _Most of them did_.)

* * *

He ran. He skidded and fell, and ducked into all the secret, hidden passageways he’d learned over the last couple of years. He could feel something growing behind him, reaching for him, but he must have run too far from its reach, because it never caught him. He knew because he was always looking. He paused, breathless and still terrified, on a foggy ridge he didn’t completely trust, but he could no longer feel the burning-hurting-itch on his skin that said he was being watched by something dangerous. He patted his robes lightly, once he could stand on his own two feet, and was assured by the gentle weight of the scroll tucked inside them. As long as he had _that_, everything would be fine. He could still _make this work_. Especially if he went to the Fire Lord with news of the two traitor Princes, and how they had help from impostor spirits.

(That couldn’t have been Agni. There was no way. Agni was the voice of the Fire Lord -his home and heart was with the honor and glory of the Fire Nation. Yang Chin had not survived this long without having that _simple fact of life_ beaten into him.)

He turned his eyes towards the sea, and sighed. Then he started climbing. If he could make it to the edge of the mountain ranges, he could make it to a Fire Nation out-posting there. From there, it was a matter of _commandeering a ship_. 

* * *

Katara worried a hand over Zuko’s forehead, checking his temperature -again- before she drew it back and resettled his blankets. Iroh and Dumpling settled down on either side of the boy, and she made short work of crawling back out of Appa’s saddle. She joined Aang in saying goodbye to Rui Ho and his people, where Teo was _uncharacteristically_ _quiet_. The whirlwind of time they’d spent in the temples had been brief, but the boy had been a consistent fountain of energy and hopeful optimism.

(In the couple days since Iroh and Agni had lit the early-morning sky with flames that didn’t burn, those soldiers that had surrendered had made a promise before their spirit deity to do everything in their power to make amends for the crimes they’d committed in the name of a corrupt Fire Lord. They wanted to start by defending the people here until they could stand on their own. Rui Ho and _his_ people had been reasonably wary about it at first, until Aang came forward and swore as the _Avatar_, their bridge between worlds, that if Agni trusted them, he did too. Katara had come to expect the _near-mystical_ way people seemed to automatically trust Aang as soon as they were _reminded_ he was the Avatar and _not_ just an excitable twelve-year-old.)

“Will you come back?” Teo asked now, his eyes sad and large. Katara wanted to pat his head or pinch him, no matter that he was probably Zuko’s age. “When you’re done in the Northern Water Tribe?”

Aang hesitated, the parts of him that were all excitable boy clearly wanting to say _yes_. Katara stepped in to speak, because Sokka would have if he wasn’t loading Appa, and she was aware that someone occasionally needed to act as Aang’s voice of reason.

“We probably shouldn’t. It would be safer for you if no more attention is drawn to the Temples.” Teo wilted a little at that, but nodded solemnly. Aang wilted a little too, but then smiled wide.

“But _as soon as I can_, you bet I’ll take the opportunity to come fly with you!” Katara let them have that one, stepping back to accept some additional, heavy clothing from one of the refugees, and as soon as that was up in the saddle with Sokka, Iroh and Zuko, Katara scrambled up after them. Momo jumped from Aang’s shoulder to the rim of the saddle, and it took a few minutes to get the Nomad himself onto Appa.

(She knew, because he’d told her the night before, that he was more upset to be leaving Fujin Seiruka than the temple itself. It had taken a _sibling-tag-team-hug-plus-one-lemur_ to get him out of that particular mope.)

Katara couldn’t feel the Fujin the same way she felt the push-pull force of La or Tui, but she did know there was _something_ in the winds around them as they left the Northern mountains. It broke off around the time they reached the rocky coasts, and hours later, Zuko woke long enough to eat something -Iroh heated it carefully in a heavy ceramic bowl one of the _Skytopia_ refugees had given them- and they managed to keep him awake for a short conversation.

(Uncle Bato has once been hit on the head too hard, she remembered. Their healer, who’d left with the rest of the men -leaving his daughter behind to act in his place- had quietly given Katara a list of things to look out for with head injuries. She had been doing so at every opportunity with Zuko, helped in no small part by Aang, who’d taken the task very seriously once he’d learned the whats and whys of it.)

“What about when we met?” Aang asked now, leaning heavily over Apa’s saddle, Noodle and Momo perched on opposite sides of him, watching with mild confusion. “What’s your least favorite memory about when we met?”

Zuko gave Aang the most exasperated look she’d seen in a while, though it was ruined by all the sleepy blinking he was doing, curled up much closer to Iroh than he normally allowed himself.

“The fact that Katara looked ready to drown me.” He growled, which matched up with a couple of his previous waking answers. She nodded subtly to Aang, and the boy laughed.

“_Told you so Sokka_! You owe me half of your next _non-meat-meal_!” Zuko gave them a confused look, but evidently decided to shrug it off in favor of handing his bowl off to Uncle Iroh. The old general took the offering and smilingly finished off his Nephews food, watching the boy subtly as he drifted back to sleep. As soon as they were sure he was out, Aang and Sokka cut their banter short, but with friendly smiles. They had all, at this point, become experts at subtly making sure Zuko didn’t get in the way of his own healing.

(As soon as he realized they were all taking care of him, he would be more insistent that nothing was wrong, and probably make whatever was wrong _worse_. It said _a lot_ about their travels to this point that they could _tell_ when he’d hurt himself doing something on his own and that they had adaptable systems in place for dealing with said injuries.)

The flight North was boring except the occasional wild conversation, and involved a lot of dozing on their part and _chittering-play-not-really-help_ from Momo and the King Serval siblings. Dumpling and Noodle, at least, didn’t seem bothered by long flights, and appeared to be taking turns sitting watch on the saddle rim. Or maybe Katara was reading too much into _bored-animal-roaming_. Regardless. When something finally happened, she was all too eager to not just stare blankly into nothing. _She needed movement_.

(Two days, give or take a few hours, was simply too much to be stuck on a saddle. Zuko was more awake now, but that meant almost nothing because he had no energy. This only made him shouty, which meant he and Sokka’s arguments got loud. They needed to not be stuck in a confined space with her brother. His snippy comments were driving even Aang up a wall, especially when he started complaining about the _lack of altitude_.)

She wasn’t exactly thinking she wanted them to be attacked by Water benders though. That sucked, and not just because they were lobbing icy spears at Appa. It sucked because she _stopped_ the Icy spears, and in response, they _crashed the tired bison_, then surrounded him with _more ice_. Aang was shouting things about peace, and could we not do this _please_, while Zuko looked halfway to jumping out of the saddle and melting everything.

(Sokka ended up being the voice of reason, because he had the loudest volume. Katara had dawned her claws as quickly as she could, given the bustling way they’d crashed, and Northern Water Tribe or not, she was going to _teach them manners_ the next time they lobbed something at _her family_. What made it worse was that they were all being _extremely arrogant_ about the way they’d crashed the Avatar’s Bison.)

She only wished that unspoken arrogance was her _only _problem with them. Zuko was soaked, and _steaming_, and _glaring_, which made them nervous, but his hands were still stubbornly crossed over his chest, and Dumpling was gently licking some stubborn perspiration off his cheek. She could tell from their looks alone, they were going to have _problems_.

(They probably should have put more thought into explaining two Fire Benders dressed like Earth Kingdom refugees.)

* * *

“Sir, we have something that will be of interest to you.”

Zhao turned wildly from the map of Nations, his carefully laid coarse pinned painstakingly with bright red thread. There was a man that could be a Councilor standing between two of his best men, shivering but looking arrogant. Zhao bared his teeth in what should have been a coy smile, but probably came off wrong, if the small flinch was anything to go by.

(He was sleeping more now, but his dreams were plagued by nightmares of giants in the water with four eyes and fish-like bodies put together wrong. His chest always felt bitter and cold, and he hadn’t been able to properly bend in _too long_. This was all the spirits' fault. He would make them pay.)

“And who are you?” He growled, when it should have been a sneer.

The man flinched again, then drew himself up, tilting his head to look down his nose at Zhao.

“I am _Councilman Yang Chin_, and I have very urgent documents and news for the Fire Lord.” Zhao wanted to snort. He did. He snorted a laugh and smiled some more, because this was the most amusing thing he’d heard since their last helmsman tried to tell him _they wouldn’t be able to dock safely at this port._ That Helmsman was now gone, and they were docked, and the port now belonged to the Fire Nation. He would have turned away, if not for what the man screeched next.

“I have just come from a _battle_ with the _Avatar_ _and former General Iroh_, _traitor Prince_ to our esteemed nation!”

That, at least, succeeded in catching Zhao’s attention. Everything he had to say after only made him smile more. His plans suddenly seemed _possible_. He could have the full backing of his nation _and_ revenge on not just the _traitor Princes_, but the _Avatar_. The plans that the Councilman carried could also be useful, so he had them copied and then sent to the Fire Lord along with everything else. Luck was finally smiling on him.

(This was a lie that he was convinced, no matter that Luck was _laughing_ at him. It had already rolled the dice -and knew where this leads the admiral. There were consequences for every action, and Zhao had made a lot of terrible choices in the last year or so.)

* * *

Azula was woken by the softest of sounds at her door and sat up in her bed of _every fur she could get her hands on_ to see _Her_ coming into the room unprompted. The look on her face was enough to give Azula pause.

“They’ve finally arrived Princess.” The words had hardly finished leaving the woman’s mouth before she was tossing back her own covers and scrambling for warm clothes. She lightly slapped away the hands that tried to help -she could do this simple task, she wasn’t helpless- and barely managed to get her hair up and tied back before she was pulling on her heavy boots.

Others would mistake her enthusiasm for _eagerness_. The truth of it was that Azula fully intended to _beat her brother bloody_ for taking his time getting here. She intended to _smack him_ for every sleepless moment she’d had in the last week. She wanted _to grind his bones into dust_ for probably forgetting her. Then she’d make him _explain himself_, and after that, she’d make him explain _her own feelings_ to her.

In short, she wasn’t eager to _see her brother_. She was eager to _make him pay_.

(When she saw him, _really_ saw him, her plans were slightly derailed. First, she’d make the people who bruised him pay. _Then_ it would be his turn.)


	15. Savage hospitality (more hospitable than you'd think)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I reached my own personal goal in the dredges of the new year and finished off Toph's side story, and I got around to introducing Azula's guardian in her story, so I feel pretty comfortable coming back to this. I'll be playing ping pong with this story and Azula's, and while I _think_ it'll be a pretty consistent back and forth, it might depend on my levels of inspiration.  
I'll be keeping up with my MO of posting little bits and pieces, then fully flushing it out once I'm at my computer. I've also started taking the liberty (If I can) of changing the date after my second -sometimes third- run through. I'm ...not actually sure if this will send you an update notice or not? If it does and it irritates you, let me know and I'll stop.  
Chapter status: 100 % COMPLETE!

They were 'escorted' into the Northern Water Tribe Capital, which would have been awe-inspiring, if Katara wasn't _quietly fuming_. They'd tried to take Zuko into custody. He may not have _firebent_ at all during their encounter -and that wasn't for lack of desire, but simply lack of energy- but he was very clearly _steaming_ in the arctic north.

(When they'd moved towards him with intent, Iroh had stood, the heavy robe he'd been wearing till then falling from his lap and onto Zuko's with a damp plop. He'd smiled at the men in a way that was quietly dangerous. Her mind was still fresh with Spirit-dragon-rage, and it must have been on everyone else's too, because Sokka had flung himself in front of Iroh and Katara had stepped behind him, with Aang desperately catching their attention.)

They'd only stopped when Aang continually declared that he was the _Avatar - Bridge between worlds_, _keeper of balance and harmony,_ and that the spirits had sent him this way. By trying to detain one of his _totally necessary_ and _spirit-blessed_ companions, they put the balance of the world into jeopardy. Momo parroted all of this in Lemur, from the safety of Aang's gi, where he tended to hide anytime something remotely alarming happened. 

(It had taken them all -minus one shouty former Prince who'd contributed exactly two options and then walked away in frustration- hours of brainstorming a month before to come up with that one. They'd realized they needed _some_ way to protect the Fire Benders they traveled with, since most people in the Earth Kingdom disliked anything Fire Nation on principle. The sun felt a little warmer when he'd insistently repeated this phrase to the Northerners, and that warmth had followed them here.)

She watched the walls cleanly fall away via waterbending, and instead of being awed at what she might one day be able to do, she seethed at the people eying Zuko -_clearly injured Zuko_\- like he was an unlucky spirit waiting to strike. Like they would be sure to strike him down first. 

(They would have to get through Katara and Sokka and Aang and _Iroh_ first. Even _if_ they succeeded in even getting close to the _former-prince-now-her-brother-in-arms_, there would be two very angry King servals that _did in fact_ see Zuko as part of their personal territory.)

Appa made a low, irritated sound. Noodle easily jumped onto Sokka's shoulder, growling at something over the rim. Aang stiffened in front of her, his head twisting around abruptly. She refused to look away from the canoe where the gruff boy -who'd first suggested they drag the Ashamker into their boat- sat _glaring at her in return_. She didn't need to know that whatever had happened, Aang didn't _like it_. The look on his face was exactly as angry as she's seen him at the Northern temple right before he revealed himself in Rui Ho's lab. 

(Noodle saw them _all_ as his personal territory, because Mama-Papa-Appa allowed these bi-pod packmates to live on _fluffy-soft-like-cloud-but-not-damp_ back. Since Mama-Papa-Appa was Noodles territory, by extension, that made his squishy-packmates _his_ territory. Dumpling was simply incredibly protective of _still-injured-warm-mom-who-is-roaring-less._ The roaring-less part deeply concerned the young King Serval.)

Sokka spoke to someone she couldn't see, his tone friendly, but with a clear edge of warning. He _also_ spoke before _Aang_ could, which gave the monk a chance to do some of those _deep breathing exercises_ that tended to make her hair ruffle and the wind whistle past. From the collar of his Gi, a furry lemur hand slipped up to pat at his cheek, and big green lemur eyes peeked out curiously before disappearing again.

(She took a small amount of satisfaction in the way the Northern Tribesmen looked at him, when he started, and _kept_ looking at him by the fourth breath. Almost like they'd understood the words _'I'm the Avatar,'_ but hadn't processed what _that_ and a _flying bison_ might mean until the wind was stirring around the young boy in ways it shouldn't.)

"Yeah, if you need to lead the bison somewhere, it's best to just get in front of it. I can't promise that Appa's _walking attachment_ won't maul you if you try poking him again." From the corner of her eye, she caught movement, and knew that Sokka was likely giving Noodle _good-boy scritches_ on his chin, dangerously close to teeth that were perilously _sharp_. "Teriyaki Noodle here does _love_ to play _'__ambush'_ with _people's faces._"

The warriors around them still said very little -either our of disdain or under orders, Katara couldn't tell- but one of the larger canoes pulled up in front of Appa and the bison obligingly followed it with a gentle nudge of his reigns. Aang had regained his nonchalant exterior, easily slipping back into the role of _fun-loving-twelve-year-old_, talking excitedly and _loudly_. It probably said something about their months of travel together that Katara could tell Aang's _level_ of loud was entirely on purpose, and a clear attempt to keep him distracted from his _anger_. 

"Oh, they added on more to High-Street! That's where they do most of their trade, though I guess the only thing they'd have to trade would all be made locally now." Katara managed to tear her glare off of _Gruff-boy-thinks-he's-an-adult_ to glance in the direction Aang pointed. She could just make out a three-tiered set of streets that had deep blue canvases strung over the top, probably to keep all the warmth a market would bring _above_ the market. "Back when I used to come to visit Kuraka, the Northern cities were still doing trade with the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation," the young monk continued, almost bouncing in place, "they didn't do so much trading with the Nomads -unless it was related to dessert recipes, or the occasional knit-work. The Nomads didn't do a lot of trade with _anyone_ come to think of it. There were very few worldly possessions we maintained." He shrugged, giving her a briefly goofy smile before he turned back to the canal ahead.

He continued to point out several landmarks he remembered -though, from the sound of it, he hadn't spent a lot of time in the Northern tribes because 'they're overrun with _Polar Bear Geese_,' whatever _that_ meant- and made their escorts increasingly curious and weirdly nervous. This lasted through all the tiers of the city, until they came to what Katara could only describe as a _palace_.

When she turned to check on Iroh and Zuko, she was relieved to see that Iroh sat alert and _smiling_ at several of the men on the boat behind Appa, while Zuko had slumped onto his Uncles shoulder, blinking sleepily at Dumpling where the kit was curled up contentedly in his lap. He looked grumpy about his own lack of energy, which was about as good a sign as she could hope for. 

Appa slipped from the frigid waters to the icy steps purposefully, huffing at anyone that didn't move fast enough for him to do so. Aang was the first to excitedly float off the bison's head, and Katara followed him down. She spent a minute studying the men around them _suspiciously_ before she nodded up to Sokka and Iroh. Her Uncle-in-arms slipped down from the saddle before his Nephew did, turning to help Katara make sure Zuko got down and stayed steady. Sokka obligingly nudged Zuko up and held him steady while the firebender climbed over the rim of the saddle. 

(That Zuko accepted that help with nothing more than a glare and a muffled string of curses made her worried. The fact that Dumpling was perched on the rim of the saddle and not clinging to her favorite person's cloak was also a worrying point.)

Zuko completely ignored them trying to coax him down slowly and jumped down to the icy walkway -which he clearly realized was a mistake a second after he slipped over the rim, if the slightly green tint to his face was anything to go by. Katara got around to cursing at him when she was sure he wasn't about to throw up on his own boots, while Iroh insistently had the boy lean on him. 

(She'd known it was a concussion, but she'd expected it to be a bit more _minor_ with the reactions he'd been giving up to this point. Next time, she'd remember that the _real_ test was being able to stand without tipping over. She wondered if Uncle Bato's concussion had been this bad -most of his recovery was a hazy memory at most.

This made her think of home and heartaches, so she determinedly returned her thoughts to the_ here and now_. She couldn't think about her father or the village she and her brother had left behind. Those thoughts were _only ever_ for sleepless nights when she had the comfort of Tui's gaze.)

Sokka jumped down a second later, his and Zuko's swords slung over one shoulder as he took over helping to brace Zuko. The King Serval siblings jumped down after him, Dumpling landing expertly on the ice and then letting out a shrill, surprised sound before immediately jumping onto one of Iroh's shoulders and clinging. Noodle landed in Katara's arms a second later, his eyes wide and focused on the icy ground he'd just scrambled away from.

The Northern men had been saying something to Aang, but their voices abruptly cut off with the noise.

"...What _are_ those creatures?" Someone asked, and Katara didn't bother looking away from the Serval she was soothing with her response. 

"King Servals. We saved them from _Pirates_." There was a short silence with this, one that Appa filled with a rough groan and a familiar stance.

Katara reacted even before she realized she was reacting. The bison shook himself roughly, and she bent the water as it flew, creating a kind of umbrella over where Iroh and Sokka were propping Zuko up. Sokka sent her an odd look, his lips twisting into a pout. Zuko was frowning as something over Katara's shoulder, his eyes confused. 

(Confused but weirdly hopeful. Hopeful and incredibly sad.)

"Oh, so now you want to protect me from water? Where was this _enthusiasm_ a couple of weeks ago when Appa did the _same thing_ and the only one that tried to warn me was _Uncle?_" Her brother shouted, and Katara shifted through the motions of flinging the water back to its source.

The motions were a little awkward with Noodle clinging to her the way he was, but she managed. She was about to retort when Zuko spoke, sounding ... sounding weird. Weirder than he did right before a bad nightmare he was too proud to talk about. Weird like he was when he spoke of his childhood. 

"Uncle." A word strong enough to catch attention, the elbow he was letting Iroh hold trembling. "Uncle, I think I'm hallucinating again. I need you to tell me if it's real or not."

(Since he'd only been hallucinating once in this past week, right after he first woke from his head injury, Katara wanted to say it wasn't likely.)

She turned to see what had held his attention and was startled out of her wits to see a _girl_. This was no Watertribe girl. Her skin was far too pale, her eyes, even if they were young were sharp ... but they were also the exact shade of tawny bronze that Katara had begun associating with Iroh. Her face was still rounded with baby-fat, and her hair was pulled up in the messiest queue Katara had ever seen -half of it was falling out and draped messily over her collar.

She was swathed head to toe in screaming reds and golds, bundled up like there was a blizzard going on. She still managed to look _regal beyond all imagining_. This girl was glaring at Zuko and Iroh in a way that was _deeply offended_ -like she'd been reminded that things like _bugs_ existed and a couple had crawled in front of her.

"You are not hallucinating Nephew," Iroh said softly. His tone of voice suggested that he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

There was an older woman -old but not Iroh old, Katara didn't think. She was old like Aunt Wu had been, and the look of deeply amused affection she was giving the impossibly regal Fire Nation girl -because what else could she be?- suggested they were companions, but Katara couldn't figure out why they would be here. A man came up behind the two, clearly in a hurry but not wanting to _appear_ like he was in a hurry. From the way the other men around him reacted to his presence, Katara was guessing he was in charge.

(She completely missed the sidelong looks some of them were giving her, insulted and confused, as if she'd just kicked their favorite turtle-seal into a fire. Sokka did notice. He noticed most things that had 'potential threat,' written all over them. Just like he was noticing this young girl draped in different shades of blood, who made Zuko shake in Sokka's grasp.)

"How am I not hallucinating?" Zuko shouted, looking confused. The girl looked likes he wanted to stomp him out of existence until Zuko's next words seem to catch up with her brain, "I haven't figured out how to rescue Azula yet, much less how to talk her into being rescued! Why would she be here if we haven't rescued her yet!" 

(That name sounded familiar. It buzzed around in the back of Sokka's mind, a half-formed memory that he must have shoved into the background, the information _important_, but not important enough to _always have on hand_. Katara didn't have as much trouble remembering. It had been a handful of flyaway comments over the months that she'd finally brought up to Zuko -possibly before the Northern temple, but after Aunt Wu. Azula was his _sister_.)

Iroh looked like he was about to say something, but then Zuko lurched out of their hold and stomped forward -while swaying, dear _Tui_ and _La_, he was swaying and Katara was going to kill them all and-

Zuko reached out slowly, slipped some hair behind the girl's ear. 

(His hands shook when they made contact with the fine, smooth looking black strands.)

The girl looked confused and outrightly furious, and her voice shook when she spoke, but Sokka and Katara weren't sure if it was the _good_ kind of shaking.

"_You_ were going to rescue _me?_ After _forgetting_ about me!" blatant accusation and disbelief in her voice, and the growing crowd behind her looked ...well, Sokka didn't have a perfect word for it, but it was somewhere between the feelings, _'I'm dreaming, please tell me I'm dreaming,'_ and _'I have never seen something this bizarre or potentially life-altering in my life.' _Sokka thought the looks were kind of funny. 

(Katara privately agreed. The way the men were looking at the clearly outraged child, it was like they had no idea who she was.)

"_Lala,_" the Southern Watertribe siblings' attention was suddenly very intently on the two royal children, and Aang was suddenly in between Sokka and Katara, anxiously bouncing in place. None of them had ever head that much emotion in Zuko's voice. "I _never_ forgot you. _I saw you in every secret shadow_."

The girl- Azula. Her name was Azula, and her face went briefly blank, a war of confusion and suspicion in her eyes before she spoke, deliberately slow.

"You _swear? _" she growled, almost too quiet to hear, and Zuko smiled in a way that they'd never seen. It looked soft and sincere all at once, amused rather than irritated. There was raw relief in the way he reached up and carefully slipped more hair behind her ear. 

(Aang would swear, later, that she leaned into the touch, just subtly.)

"By the grace of Agni and all his light shines on, _I swear_."

Katara suddenly felt that they had accidentally witnessed a very private ritual, one that others weren't meant to see lightly. She was proven right in the very _Zuko_ way the girl turned her accusing glare on the rest of them -and briefly at her Uncle- before she growled again. Really growled, like she was a feral animal rather than a little girl.

"Now which of you _idiots_ let my _Dum Dum of a brother hurt himself? _"

(It took a long time to convince the girl to let them take this indoors, but weirdly enough, it was the way Zuko swayed on his feet and reached for Uncle Iroh that seemed to convince her. Katara hardly paid any attention to the glitter of the ice palace after that. She was far too absorbed by the interactions between Zuko and his little sister to care about a bunch of pompous grandeur that _hurt_ if she thought about it too much.)

* * *

Across the globe, several things happened at once. 

......

Zhao received a missive from his Fire Lord that was exactly as manic as the one he'd sent. There was nothing in it that explicitly forbad him from going forward, so Zhao chose to look at it like it was_ blanket permission_ for all of his schemes. No one questioned him when he requisitioned that fleet under the order of the _Fire Lord_. Not until it was far too late to risk jumping overboard.

......

Fire Lord Ozai -no, that title wouldn't do, not anymore. He was so close to becoming what he was meant to be! He would have to think of something better. Something more majestic- paced his rooms and had a sudden moment of clarity. It was just a _minute_, a short, _blissful_ minute in the endless stretch of time since he'd been able to think clearly. He considered, in that minute, what it would take to subvert Ba Sing Se from the inside out, because if he had their force Azula could surely be found-

That minute ended, and he was lost to his own mania again, pacing wildly in the confines of his office. It was the first instant of many to come. Ozai was, after all, an incredibly intelligent man -you had to be to achieve what he had. Even -_temporarily!_\- losing his bending would only affect him adversely for so long. Eventually, he would be able to think his way around the chaos in his mind.

......

Bato nearly dropped his mug onto the grimy tavern floor. He'd stopped in a port town that wasn't Fire Nation friendly, but still got a lot of traffic from places that were. He stared at the chipper traveler across from him, the man's _unusually happy_ demure enough to make what he'd said moments before almost a joke. Except he should have known the names he just dropped.

"What did you just say?" He asked and it was really a growl.

"I said I bring you a message from Aunt Wu!" The man chirped again, smiling like Agni was still awake and beaming. "She asked me to tell you that Sokka and Katara are _just fine_, and you shouldn't worry too much when you see the papers. The _Avatar_ will take care of them." He gave one last flashing smile before he took his drink and ambled away, and Bato was left staring at the place he'd been in a cold sweat. 

(He managed to convince himself that he'd heard wrong. Then he saw the posters as he was heading towards the docks the next morning. A poster that depicted a young girl in water tribe blue with familiar hair loops. The art was minimal, so of course he could be reading too much into it. He'd almost convinced himself of that too when he saw Sokka's. He booked it for his canoe and decided that he would _not_ be stopping again unless it was absolutely necessary. He needed to speak with Hakoda.)

* * *

Yue first became aware of the whispers halfway through her etiquette lessons. They were a welcome distraction from the countless, ridiculous rules she was expected to remember, for reasons no one could explain. 

(She'd stopped asking years before why she _needed_ etiquette lessons. Her tutors usually only tutted at her in disapproval. It was simply what was always done _before_, so they do it _now_.)

The whispers started as the barest of murmurs in the ice, muttered in passing between servants in the halls beyond her study room. It was mid-day, but she felt the faintest stirring of awareness in her mind, as if something was watching her -but it wasn't her _All-seeing Mother_. This presence was familiar, but not the same, a tickling something in the glimmer of light through the nearest window-

(She realized all at once what the association between _light_ and this fuzzy awareness _was_. She was not _Tui-blessed_ and the youngest _Spirit-diviner_ for nothing.)

She stood as soon as her lessons were over, smiling her way through her tutors' string of reminders about protocols she needed to follow in the coming month. Turning sixteen was apparently a big deal -so what if she was now of marriageable age? Why did that need to be the only important footnote in her life?- but Yue was really more interested in the soft something she could almost _taste_ in the air. 

(The tiny, _angry-girl-shaped_ hole in the conversation had her worried, but not as worried as the ice-spirits she could feel getting ready to make mischief.)

"No, no, little one," she said demurely, her voice clear despite how soft it was - and incidentally interrupting her tutor scandalously- but she hardly paid attention to the gasping. Her eyes were trained on the dripping ice wall over the woman's shoulder. "I'll ask you not to make mischief right now." 

The older woman -a little slower on the uptake than some of Yue's other tutors, despite the fact that Yue had known the woman her _whole life_\- turned to stare where Yue's gaze was fixed. A spurt of chilly wind rushed past, playing with the smaller braids tucked into Yue's hair briefly before it vanished. The Northern Princess took the opportunity presented with her tutor sputtering with _pale-sickly-looking-worry_ to slip out of the room.

(It would forever bother the Princess, that look of worry. As if she was still a _fragile_, _sickly child_ that needed moonlight to breathe right -not a strong young woman that played their games because she wasn't in a position to change the rules _yet_. As soon as she could though ... Yue knew what had to be done -what her _All-seeing Mother demanded_ after years of being _misinterpreted_ by the _shaman_. Maybe some of _Azula's_ ideas had also given her inspiration.)

She entered the central hall -which doubled as her father's greeting hall on occasion- having absently followed the tail-end of an excited ice-spirit while she stewed in her own thoughts. She froze in the doorway as much as her father froze half-way through what looked like an attempt to calm down Master Pakku, who was shouting at a smiling old man in Earthkingdom browns and greens that didn't look particularly warm enough for the Northern chill.

This wasn't what really had Yue frozen to the spot. There were children standing clustered together -they stood in loose formation behind the old Earth Kingdom man, managed to look relaxed but tense all at once- and one of them was a tall boy with a _terrible scar_ across the left side of his face. Looking at him made her feel- 

(The axis on which she stood tilted just _slightly_, almost _imperceptibly_. That faint, hazy connection she felt to her All-seeing Mother thrummed inside her head, and she _knew_. Agni was smiling down at them in joy, and somewhere across their world, that joy _bounced_ against Tui's senses. She and this boy were two sides of the same coin exactly like Agni and Tui were, their lights always strongest when they could face each other.)

Complete. Looking at him made her feel _complete_, as if she'd been spinning wildly before, looking for the right direction to face. She managed to tear her gaze away from his startling _gold_ eyes to look at his companions. A boy stood just to his side, bouncing in place slightly and watching her back with avid curiosity and a welcome smile. He wore such a startling shade of yellow that she was temporarily caught off-guard. The aura around him was old and sad, a dying and a living that sparked her interest and held. She sent him a real smile in return, her eyes flickering to his side-

And here is where her day became truly interesting. The Wartertribe boy and girl that stood with the group were _not_ of the North. Yue knew that like she knew the secret name of every gleaming star within Tui's sights. She would know them, at least _distantly_, if they were of _her_ people. 

(And their particular shade of blue was _just slightly_ flatter than what most of their Northen people looked for in a dye.)

The boy stood like a soldier, feet braced and ready with his arms crossed. There were weapons strapped to his back and hips. He might have looked strong and seasoned if it weren't for the traces of baby-fat along his jaw. His expression was slack-jawed. He looked back at her like she _was_ the moon and he'd been stuck in the ice-caves for ages. (She wasn't far off. Sokka thought she was divinity given human form, or possibly a spirit trying to _trick him_. He would find out much later how right he was about one of these options.) The girl stood in much the same way the boy did, her stance almost _easy_ in its readiness.

There was a leather holster across her hips and over one shoulder, and Yue had no idea what was _inside_ the little pouches, but from the look in this girl's eye, she knew it was a _weapon_. What really caught and held her attention about this girl was the taste of _salt_ and _deep waters_ that emanated from her like a shroud. Looking at the scared boy made Yue feel complete -watching this girl watch her made the Northern Princess think they could part the seas if they tried hard enough. If _Yue_ was blessed by Tui and her All-seeing eye, _this girl_ was blessed by La and all his fury.

(Azula stood much closer to Agni's favorite child than she'd stood to _anyone_ thus far. She was within touching distance of the boy, and it was only now that Yue realized he was swaying slightly, a pinched, sick look on his face. Lady Myong stood just to the side of them all, smiling an amused smile at the children, one that got soft anytime her eyes flickered to Azula and Agni's son.)

The furry-feathery, bizarre animals that were curled up carefully on top of boots looked extremely irritated. She had no earthly idea what they even were, but they almost reminded her of Polar Bear Geese -in that their eyes screamed danger.

"You! _You!_" Pakku's shouting finally drew her notice, and she glanced over at the man while purposefully stepping further into the hall, pretending not to see her father shaking his head. "You _cheated_ and you know it!" The old Waterbending master finally managed, to which the Earth Kingdom man laughed heartily, shaking off Pakku's accusing finger.

(Yue had never seen the old master so ruffled before. She wished she'd been here from the beginning to figure out what the old man had done.)

"I would never _dare_ play tricks on you, old friend!" He boomed in an entirely friendly voice, while her father edged around the two and made straight for Yue. "Though if we must have this argument _again_, why not do so with a _friendly rematch? _"

"Yue," Father hissed once he was close enough, looking worried, and Yue gave him the smile she'd been practicing with Azula. She knew it was _successful_ when his step _faltered_. "Yue, what are you doing? Don't you have _lessons? _"

"Oh no, Father, my lessons are all done for the day! And besides," she smiled past her father to the group of children that was watching her with interest, "I couldn't possibly _neglect our guests! _"

The bald boy in garish yellow bounced on his feet even more, smiling a little wider at her in turn. Azula shifted, smiling her own smile in approval, and then the girl reached out -hesitantly- to grab the scared boy's sleeves and gently tug him closer. He shuffled after the girl willingly, smiling down at her in a way that was both _weak_ and _sheer happiness_. The rest of their small group shuffled along with him, including the older man who'd been arguing with Pakku. 

(The animals snarled at eh shuffling, and ended up scrambling up onto the old Earth Kingdom man's shoulders, quivering and growling at the ground.)

"Zuzu," Azula started once they were within what Yue had learned was Azula's 'comfortable distance' range, "This is _Yue_, the Northern Savages _Princess_. She talks to magic fish, which I would find _silly_, if it weren't also interesting to watch the fish _talk back._ Savage Princess, this is my _Dum Dum_ of a brother Formerly Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. You will refer to him respectfully of course-" she interrupted herself to smile that _slightly colder_ smile she usually reserved for Arnook, "_I'm_ the only one that gets to call him Dum Dum."

A telling silence echoed with this declaration, and the boy- Zuko, bowed a little awkwardly to Yue and her father. His friends, stifling smiles and laughter behind him, followed suit, though, in the Water tribe children's case, they merely inclined their heads respectfully. Zuko nudged the girl pointedly, with the kind of patience Yue had only seen from Lady Myong up to this point.

(Lady Myong was chuckling behind them all, her shoulders shaking merrily, one sleeved hand held over her lips. She looked exactly like a doting relative in that instant.)

"Oh _yes_," Azula drolled, almost absently, twitching her free fingers in the direction of the other children and the old man. "I almost forgot. The _old one_ is my Uncle Iroh, and the others are the _Avatar_ and his _other_ companions. I wasn't paying a lot of attention to their names, but I'm fairly certain one of them is named _Peasant-boy._" 

The Water Tribe boy huffed up at that, sending the little princess a heated look, and Yue felt like she'd stumbled into more than one argument. Before anything more could be said, Zuko shook his head slowly. Her father was pinching the bridge of his nose, looking worn without meaning to. She wondered how long these foreign children had been steamrolling over him.

"I think we should find our guests an appropriate apartment to stay in!" He announced loudly. 

Yue beamed at him with as much _sweet charm_ as she could muster. 

"I think I have the _perfect one in mind! _" She _conveniently_ didn't hear all of Arnook's objections over the Avatar's excited chatter as she lead them down one of the many walk-ways within the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plans for this were briefly derailed when my brain and body conspired to make me sleep eleven hours. That's six hours longer than I intended. BUT it is done now!!


	16. The blind and the brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally (FINALLY) finished updating Azula's fic, looking at a couple more chapters or so ...possibly....unless reasons.... until the two are mostly at the same pace. Now we get to have fun in the North with all the Gaang (minus one very important Earthbender) in place!
> 
> Chapter Status: 100% COMPLETE

He wasn't sure what to make of Yue. She was a _Princess_, which automatically meant he was as respectful as possible to her -he couldn't see a knife or any indicator that she was a bender, but that meant _nothing_\- and Lala seemed to like her. To be fair, Azula liking the Princess could mean anything -and he _wasn't_ going to ask about the magic fish thing, because he'd _heard_ Sokka scoffing- and with Azula, _magic fish_ might just mean _spirit fish_. 

(Azula was as _adamant_ that spirits didn't exist as Sokka _was_ that science could explain anything.)

However, she lead them to a set of quarters in the palace that had heavy white rugs over a good portion of the floor, and she asked Katara with help in making additional shelving space. Zuko noticed the way the men around them _twitched_ when Katara complied with a mild amount fo amusement, and he was proud to note that her simplified stances for such things were seamless. The decorative ice sculptures of _bison_ flying over the shelves seemed unnecessary, but it made Aang laugh and Yue clapped lightly. 

(He might be a little addled because his head was _pounding_ and he was _dizzy_, but he had noticed every time the men around them looked at Katara like she was _breaking laws_ by bending so well. He was wondering if they expected the Southern Tribe children to be _inadequate_ in some way, simply because they were scattered and less powerful.)

The next thing he knew, he was being forced onto one of the comfortable-looking low sofas set in front of a fireplace, and he had to do a lot of _deep breathing_. Katara and Sokka had been the ones to herd him onto it, but their hands disappeared unexpectedly, to be replaced by Uncles -and a smaller set of warm hands that poked carefully at the spot on his head that had greeted the hard stone of the temple floor. Someone was talking, but he couldn't focus on the words, his head hurt so much, and he really hoped those guards that had followed them in weren't looking. 

Someone was pushing him back down -when had he started getting up?- and his head landed on Azula's lap. She looked marginally uncomfortable (others would say she looked irritated, but they'd be wrong) with the display of care, but when he tried to rise again she kept him down. That seemed like it might possibly be a good idea, so he subsided enough to blink-

and he woke up when someone lightly tapped at his face. He opened groggy eyes to find Aang crouching in front of him, looking a little nervous and a lot alarmed, and he wondered what Azula had done. Aang blinked, then frowned, and his eyes flickered to something outside of Zuko's range of sight.

"How did you know that Azula, um, did something?" Since Zuko hadn't known he'd asked that question out loud, he forwent answering, because those were Azula's secrets, and he was pretty sure they weren't alone.

"What'd you do Lala?" He asked again instead of answering, letting his eyes flutter shut because they were really too heavy. He felt a small movement under his head, carefully controlled, but he'd know his sister's shrug anywhere.

"The Servals wanted to play. I played." 

Zuko's eyes popped open at that, but before he could get up to check on Dumpling, Aang piped up, and he noted the wild fascination in his sister's eyes at the same time. 

"Did you know the servals will eat fire and then spit it back up?" Aang asked worriedly. 

"I approve of these pets, Zuzu. They aren't _stupid_, like the other ones were." Azula cut in, waving a hand at the monk almost absently. "The one called Dumpling is _surprisingly well-groomed_, and she knows _exactly_ how to play with a _rag on fire_."

Zuko blinked up at his sister, wary all over again. 

"That wasn't a rag on fire, that was one of my good shirts!" Sokka protested from somewhere.

Two girlish chuckles followed this comment, and Zuko felt the inexplicable urge to not be in a vulnerable position. He managed to sit up slowly, Azula carefully helping him from one side and Aang fussing on the other. Just as he sat up full the Serval siblings tumbled in front of him, Noodle carrying a burning blue wad of shirt in his jaws. He and Dumpling fought over it for a few playful minutes before the Servals were scrambling away again. 

"Why was it necessary to set Sokka's shirt on fire?" He asked, taking careful breaths before he looked up and around. Katara and Yue were sitting on the sofa to his left, almost perpendicular to where he, Azula and Aang sat.

They were smiling a smile he recognized. 

"Why did you teach Katara how to smile like that!" 

Shouting when one has a concussion is not, apparently, the wisest thing.

..........

Arnook sat at the head of the table, what Sokka assumed to be a couple of honored elders sitting to his right and left, and the councilmen flanking either side of them. They'd been called in to give their side of events since the Avatar's waking -and Sokka got the feeling they were trying to suss out some sort of Fire Nation ulterior motive. All of their questions to Zuko not so subtly lead back to questions about the Fire Nation. It would have been fine, honestly, because from Sokka's own experience Zuko gave pretty interesting tidbits about his culture that clashed with Water Tribe mental images of Ashmaker evils. Apparently they were all the wrong tidbits though, because Arnooks' most recent question was exactly the same as the last one, just worded differently and way more specific. 

"What do you and your political alliance _achieve_ by siding with the Avatar?" The Northern chief was growling now. 

How in the world Zuko managed to get people from normal-tone-voice to growling, Sokka still didn't know, but it was a skill he was trying his level best to pick up. Irritated people were people easily manipulated or turned around. Zuko turned -again, Sokka felt the need to add a mental tally- to Azula with a questioning look. The former Prince's younger sister smiled at her brother in that _eerily-creepy-sort-of-threatening_ way and then cut a challenging glare to the Northern chief. Katara -who had shoved her way in right behind Azula when they tried to keep her out- leaned over Sokka to nab his Bitter-berry tea and smile encouragingly at Azula.

"As of right now, there is _no_ major political alliance in place._ As I've said before_, Chief Arnook," Azula's voice was too sweet and too soft, and there was a bit of Yue in her smile, "Political coups in the Fire Nation are rare because they're almost impossible to achieve. Our culture, much like yours, is heavily steeped in spiritual beliefs that are hard to overcome without a lot of sound _yet spiritual_ reasoning." The Princess gave one of those differential shrugs Sokka had come to realize she used specifically to piss off adults. "The people that have been left in charge of overseeing that are doing the best they can, but my Brother, Uncle and I are the _only_ major political -and might I add _royal_\- roles that have _willfully stepped into treason_ in ... oh, the last _thousand_ years?"

Arnook looked long-suffered, his eyes darting again to Iroh and Pakku in the corner of the room. Neither man looked up from the Pai Sho board, but Sokka saw the way the Group Uncle smiled at the tiles. The older man was very much aware of the tension and very purposefully ignoring it. He was a staunch believer in letting them feel their way through these situations, and since he hadn't intervened yet, Sokka figured they were doing alright. 

(If he was perfectly honest, he really enjoyed the way the Northern Councilmen were getting annoyed. Maybe it was petty, but the headaches he could see forming felt _justified_. These were the people, after all, who had ignored the South's cry for help -and according to every story Sokka grew up hearing, had been angry when the Southern War Chief of the time refused to cede to some of their requirements for aid. Their help hadn't been worth the price they demanded. Maybe it had been _foolishly prideful_, but the South split from the North for a _reason_. Sokka just couldn't remember _exactly_ what it was, but he would!)

Arnook was looking at Zuko _expectantly_, and Zuko was staring back in mild confusion, a defensive scowl preemptively in place. Sokka could see where this might go if Arnook made Zuko feel like he was expected to be _doing_ something, and he jumped into the '_conversation_' hurridly. They didn't need their jumpy Firebender Battle-buddy to start something accidentally.

(Or for Arnook to start something on purpose.)

"Can we get to the _real_ reason the Avatar is here?" He could almost physically _feel_ Aang perk up at that, and the boy was sitting on the_ other side_ of Katara. 

(They'd had to separate him from Azula because Aang had trouble with boundaries and she told him in no uncertain terms that if he tried to hug her again, she'd _'set his bald head on fire.'_ It had taken one look at Zuko's _earnest-panic_ to know she wasn't joking.)

"Yeah! Katara and I need a teacher! She's taught me some things, but everything we know is kinda guesswork!" Aang declared, almost bouncing right off the fluffy cushion that served as his seat.

Sokka was beginning to suspect that the boy never ran out of energy. He was wondering if it was an Air Nomad thing, or just an _Aang_ thing. Zuko twitched next to him, and Sokka suddenly realized that a heavy silence had settled over the room at large. Something niggled at the nack of his mind as he looked at the old guys all looking back at them like they'd done something terribly, _terribly wrong_.

(It was a _something_ that tasted like a memory, either a thing he'd read or maybe a story he'd heard. Something about the Northern tribe that had seemed _silly_ when he'd learned it and thus forgotten about it. Or maybe shoved it aside when other things happened? His mind was always so _twisty_ when it came to memories.)

"I'm sorry," Pakku spoke up, turning his attention fully away from the Pai Sho board in front of him, "_who_ did you say has been teaching you?" there was a touch of something bitter and unpleasant in his tone that Sokka didn't like.

Aang, _naturally_, completely missed the tone, beaming at them all like Fishing Season had gone _without_ any Arctic Lobster Wolf raids. With lightning-fast moves and a contorting dexterity that Sokka was _positive_ must be exclusive to Nomads, Aang flung his arms up to frame Katara, wiggling his hands in a '_ta-da_,' manner. Sokka concluded that this was probably the _best_ way anyone could fully introduce his sister. 

(She might be a _sister_ and a _girl_, but she was _his_ girly sister, and as much as he griped about magic water, she _was_ impressive. She'd managed to go from floundering with ice and water to being able to lob _icy-water-bombs_ at people with ease. Plus, this introduction had the added benefit of being mildly embarrassing. That little nugget of almost-remembered information _burned_ in the back of his mind.)

"Katara did!" Aang declared.

Pakku scoffed, turning his head in a way that was _entirely_ snobbish.

"Well, _she_ can't have taught you _much_ then." 

Those words fell like icy blocks, and were not helped at all by Aang. 

"We do pretty well in _combat_ actually, we just can't figure out the _healing_ thing!" Aang chirped, smiling despite how still Katara had gone, and Sokka was pretending to be _anywhere but where he was_.

He loved his sister, he did, but when her temper exploded, he preferred to _not_ be sitting next to her. It usually resulted in him being soaked and freezing. Zuko shifted next to him, and as always, his battle-buddy had his back, because there was now enough room for two on his cushion. Bonus, it was super warm! He carefully scrambled onto it just as things got as bad as he thought they would.

(He barely noticed Azula glaring at him and then climbing into her brother's lap with as many pointy-elbow jabs as possible.)

"_This young woman fights?_" one of the elders gasped. It was the beginning of the worst conversation Sokka has ever been stuck in his life, and that nugget of barely-there information was suddenly right where he needed it _too late_. 

It had been a story Gran-Gran had told him about living in the North, where women couldn't vote in Things unless their husbands let them, where they _rarely_ had a say in who they married, and if they were benders, they could only do certain things. Women weren't allowed to fight or be rowdy, and little girls weren't allowed to play with little boys past a certain age unless there were adults following them around. Orca Seal tribe had been _bigger_ then, _before_ the Black Snow. They'd had warrior women who watched over the village and trained the young in a lot of things, and laughed all _pretty in the sun_ when he and Katara 'sneak-attacked' them. The memory of learning where Gran Gran had came from had faded and been shoved aside with everything that happened _after_, but now he remembered and he was _appalled_.

(He knew, of course, that he was kinda sexist, but he was getting _better_ at it. He hadn't had anyone before to show him the right ways to think, or any examples of strong females because the warrior women, painted and pretty and _laughing_ while he and Katara lobed snow at them had been _forgotten_. Now that he was growing to see that men and women could be warriors together, he could see the flaws in his own thinking. Why the Northerns _still_ couldn't was beyond him -they'd had _a lot_ more time to mature than he had, and their Princess reminded him of those long dead warrior women from home. Yue was dazzling and beautiful, and _strong_.)

Katara smiled that smile Azula and Yue had been helping her practice and Arnook _flinched_.

(He'd been trying not to think about how pretty Yue is, because they were in the North to get Aang a _teacher_, not so he could sigh over the Northern Princess and her pretty, _cut-throat smile_.)

"I am _sorry_, Avatar Aang. You, we will _gladly_ teach, as is our duty as the last _real_ Tribe of La's domain. Your _young lady_ friend, however, if she _truly_ wishes to learn, must know her place." Pakku cut in, giving Katara a dismissive once over, "Girls are far too delicate to be allowed to fight. If she wishes to learn _healing_, we can arrange for it of course -for the journey ahead, you'll surely want a _dedicated healer_."

Aang deflated word by word, looking confused and upset on Katara's behalf. Uncle Iroh was looking at Pakku oddly, his frown deep and eyes narrowed in confusion. Azula shifted as well, practically in Zuko's lap and leaning over Sokka, her frown deep. She looked impassive except for that frown -which lead him to wondering if he should be concerned about and _icy-battle-to-the-death_ or things being spontaneously _lit on fire_. 

"But Katara is a _fighter_. Why does her being a _girl_ have to matter?" The older men around them let out chuckles, shaking their heads in a way that was totally, _definitely_ snobby.

"Ah, the young are so innocent. This is simply the way it has always been, Avatar Aang. Our culture and people have never had female warriors, especially not female benders. Their _talents_ and _dispositions_ are better suited for healing," one fo the really old guys rumbled, stroking a wrinkled hand down his beard, "like Mother Tui soothes the _rages_ of her lover Father La, the women of our tribe are meant to soothe our ailments. The men fight, and the women heal. It is a _balance_."

Zuko finally shifted next to him, leaning forward with a look of _extreme-confusion-pre-shouty-bafflement_. Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Katara standing, her stance strong and grounded, but ready to flow into movement at any time. 

"This _young lady_ is _Katara_, daughter of _Chieftess_ Kya and _War Chief_ Hakoda of Orcaseal Tribe." Katara said slowly, sweet as you please until you really focused on her _smile_, "I am the one who _found_ and _freed_ the Avatar from sleep. I'm the one that _Mother Tui_ and _Father La_ pulled into a Spirit Visit. I am the one _destined_ to help the Avatar _end this war_ and _restore balance_. I am _not_ delicate." 

(This didn't help win their case any, no matter how Katara argued that she was only asking for basic defense. The whole thing finally ended when Aang tried to say he would _only_ take healing with Katara and his sister ended up _temporarily_ giving up, because no matter what, _Aang_ needed a teacher. Arnook -clearly suffering a headache he hadn't had at the beginning, declared the meeting over and left like his pants would catch fire if he didn't. The way Azula was looking at all the men, Sokka didn't doubt that was actually a _possibility_.)

..........

Katara wasn't angry. She _smiled_ all the way through the _swift walk_ she was taking _away_ from the ridiculous War Hall. Katara wasn't mad. She gave _polite waves_ and _head nods _to anyone that wandered into her path. She might be from the South, but Gran Gran had made sure she had _manners_, and she would use them. She knew the rest of her family was following behind her -she could feel them, a faint buzz at the back of her senses. 

(She could feel the push _push_ **_push_ **of La in her mind. His presence was a buzz along her senses.)

Katara wasn't upset. 

(She could feel the water all around her, shimmering and waiting and pulsing.)

Katara was _furious_.

"It didn't go well?" Yue asked somewhere behind her. 

(That small something in the back of her mind that had clicked with Yue from moment one eased and swelled. Katara was able to focus, and with that focus, she had a plan. It was just a baby of a plan, but a plan none the less. Yue would love it. Unfortunately, the plan was lost in the fuzzy edges of her mind with the next wave of something _other_ in her mind.)

Sokka said something in response, but Katara couldn't hear it over the move _move_ **_move_ **that thrummed through her. Some of the Northen men in front of her were looking at her weird, but she didn't care. La was calling her. She stepped out the front doors of the palace, brushing past several of the still-young warrior boys and smiling at the distant, raging waters.

(A storm was brewing on the waters, the arms of the oceans rising and falling in a dance she recognized. She had seen La's waters like this many times in her life, boiling and alive with fury. She walked to the very edge of the palace walkways, right before where the canal was.)

Aang fluttered to one side of her, Yue to the other. She could feel Sokka behind her, supportive and there -as her brother always was when it mattered. Zuko's presence was a warmth beside him, with the new and unexpected presence of Azula. Azula was less a warmth and more a raging inferno. 

(The _push_ in her mind was almost unbearable now. It wanted her to dance with the distant waves. It wanted her to smash walls and reform buildings. It wanted her to prove that she was just as strong as any of those _boys_ playing at being warriors.)

A soft, gloved hand curled over her clenched fist, and Katara startled out of what could only have been the beginnings of a Spirit Taking. Yue smiled at her, kind and knowing and secretive, and suddenly there was a _pull_ in her mind too.

(La and Tui's chosen would always be two balancing acts. That was how the ocean and his lover worked -It only made sense that Tui's favorite daughter would have the same effect on her cousin, pulling all her anger away and turning it to determined focus. Between the two of them, Tui had always been the more conniving. La was too brutally honest.) 

"Princess Yue. I find myself needing more knowledge about this Sister Tribe. Your ways are different than ours." Katara rasped, raw fury still rich in her voice.

Yue smiled that secret smile, her gloved hand twitching over Katara's in understanding.

"I have just the place. It is my duty as Princess to help our honored guests in any way." The gleam of silver in her dark eyes would have been a play of light to others, but Katara had stared into Yui's great eye. She knew that gleam of spirit light.

(In the back of her mind, La's presence shifted with repressed fury. If she needed it, it would be there, one touch away. Katara was pretty sure she would need it.)

..........

Yue showed them where the palace library was. It was, according to the Princess, one of the only wooden rooms they'd find in the palace. The guards that trailed in after them looked nervous. Zuko wanted to be offended by the _speculative_, _suspicious_ glances they kept sending his sister. Unfortunately, he'd grown up with her and knew some of their fears would be a _reality_ if they weren't careful. Still, he had a small inkling as to what Katara had wanted to come here for.

"Lala, you've been here before?" He asked quietly, almost subvocal. It was the way they'd learned to speak when they were young, and Azula imperceptibly nodded. "_Take me to the secret shadows_." old words, their meaning long agreed upon by two children who'd been desperately trying to survive.

(The meaning was simple -it always boiled down to '_let's be places we shouldn't be in the safety of darkness._' The fact that he was using them outside the royal palace, in almost a _playful_ manner, because he intended to quietly help a friend subvert a _restrictive patriarchy_ was refreshing. He far preferred their use here than in the dark of night.)

The small, truely amused smile she gave the floor was worth every bump and bruise he'd earned in the last odd-year. She grabbed his sleeve and started walking, barely casting a look at the group over her shoudler. Dumpling was a pleasent weight on his shoulders, and he could hear the soft pad of Sokka's tell-tale lope after them. The guards followed a few minutes later. Perfect.

..........

Aang watched Azula drag her brother off and noticed the small, telling signal he tossed over his shoulder. It was tough work to repress a beaming smile, but he managed, because this was _important_. As soon as the guards were gone, trailing after the fire siblings and Sokka, Aang turned to follow Yue and Katara. The Northern Princess kept her voice low as she spoke to them, pointing out several scrolls she felt Aang should read when he had a chance. 

(Aang hated reading. He wasn't very good at sitting still unless it was to meditate -but meditating and reading were two different things.)

"The most important thing for you to do is to beat them at their own game," Yue whispered softly, stopping at a row of special shelves filled with rows and rows of neat little scrolls. Her gloved hands fluttered over them briefly before she selected one, "they want to _out-talk_ you, and _out-politic_ you, so you need to understand their perspectives. I'm not sure _how much_ it will help, but my Father always says one must know one's enemies."

She cast them a _smile_, and it was that smile Aang had caught Sokka _sighing_ over quietly hours before. It was a nice smile -if you could ignore how _chilled_ it made you feel- but Aang didn't think it held a candle to _Katara's_ smile. Katara smiled like that when she was planning how to whip someone's feet out from under them, or freeze them to the ground, or toss them to La's mercy. Katara's smile was all sharp edges and mischief, and impending force ready to drown those around her. 

(Aang would be the first to admit that he'd only thought about girls and boys being _attractive_ in the loosest of terms until a few months ago -well, alright, a few months and an _iceberg_ ago. He hadn't yet figured out what he liked, but he'd been pretty sure that like _many_ of his brothers and sisters, he liked _all_ people. Now, liking Katara, he wasn't sure again, but he did know that every time she_ found the bright side_ or _perfected a bending move_, or _laughed a little wildly_ or- alright, _anytime_ she was just _Katara_ he felt fluttery inside.)

Yue helped Katara shove several political scrolls and a handful of historical documents into her heavy parka, using pockets Aang hadn't even realized the girl had. They were moving again a second later, with Yue trying to sneak -and really she wasn't too bad at it- and Katara gliding over the ice soundlessly in a way that was Zuko. Aang didn't have to try to hard to be light on his feet, and he was _nervous-excited_. He almost _never_ got to help when Katara and Zuko did their _sneaky missions_ or practices.

(To be fair, the one time they had let him, the wild Boar-Q-Pines hadn't been too happy to see so many people sneaking past them when he laughed too loudly. Now his sneaking practice was restricted to the campsite, where he mostly used it to help Zuko or Katara prank Sokka.)

Then the Princess showed them the best part of the archives. 

"These are our water-bending scrolls. Technically, I shouldn't be showing this to you, but what can I, a single, demur Princess do when her honored guests wander too deep into the archives and stumble over such knowledge?" The gleam of something other in her eyes had Aang thinking about Tui and her _too-large_ eye and _too-tiny_ shoulders and her _too-knowing smile_ and he shoved that memory aside as quickly as possible. He preferred not to think about the bodies the spirits chose to wear -because while it was true he'd seen worse, it was still unsettling to think of. 

(And the touch of something other in everything Yue did and was, from her silvery hair to her floaty laugh reminded Aang of Tui. He suspected he knew why, but it was another thing he was trying not to think about. According to the monks, this was sometimes best to do when spirits, especially deity spirits, were involved.)

There was a whole _shelf_ dedicated to bending right in front of them, and Katara looked . . . Aang wasn't sure what the emotion was, because it shifted so rapidly. First awed and then upset, another second eager and then angry. Yue watched the other girl expectantly, and Aang bounced on his feet, trying to stick to the sneaking rules Zuko had taught him -the first being to not talk _too loud_, which meant Aang _couldn't talk at all_\- and they both waited for Katara to speak about whatever was bothering her. They didn't have to wait long.

"They have all this _knowledge_, all this _history_, and they're just hoarding it." The girl finally whispered, and Aang stopped bouncing, because the _raw_ quality of her voice was so wrong. "My tribe only has scattered memories and oral stories left -we can't even communicate _regularly_ with some of the others along the shelf because we're all too afraid the Fire Nation will _intercept messages_. We've lost so much of our own history, and your councilmen sit up here in their halls _hoarding information_ that might help. For what? Why do they insist on that _disconnect? _"

Aang couldn't help the hug he gave the girl, wanting to sooth the newest swell of _anger-hurt_ in her eyes. She'd been too distant earlier to risk touching, too _touched_ by something other for him to get too close to. Now, the feeling tingle along his chi paths was distant, still an angry throb, but not one that might take him over. Katara hugged him back tightly, her jaw clenched. 

(The monks had warned him -after they destroyed his perception of who he was- that Spirits and the Spirit touched would be especially _sensitive_ to him. Touching them, even inadvertently, would be like rolling the dice. Maybe all he'd get was an itchy-buzz along his chi routes, or maybe he'd accidentally become a host without control of his body -they'd warned him it was better not to take that risk if he could help it. Aang wasn't very good about remembering to be careful, but he was trying more and more recently -especially since he really started paying attention to the difference between what Zuko believed and what all evidence pointed to.)

Yue ran a soothing, hand over the other girls' braid then nudged the two carefully, mischief in her eyes again. Aang decided he liked the look of mischief on this Princess most. She slowly raised a finger to her lips, then reached out to pluck several scrolls from either side of the shelf. Aang was trying to follow why she was selecting only some when he realized the compartments were split in half. One side for fighting, the other for healing. It was mind-boggling that they would separate the two, but Aang was also still extremely boggled by the idea that all these adults thought girls were _delicate_.

(He'd had one too many of his sisters from the West flip his Gi over his head and kick him off the side of the temples without a glider to believe that. Being pacifist had in no way made them _any less likely_ to 'prank' their brothers. There were very valid reasons he had never argued with Zuko's testament that girls were terrifying.)

Yue showed them which ones they should read, carefully tucking the healing ones into Katara's parka, and Aang kicked Momo out of his Gi to help secret the rest away. Katara laughed softly at that, smiling at him in a way that was truly genuine for the first time since they'd walked into that meeting. 

"You know I'll teach you whatever I learn, right?" Aang said softly, trying not to be too loud or excited, because this was serious and he didn't want the guards that were _somewhere_ to overhear.

(Should he be _worried_ that he couldn't hear Sokka?)

Katara paused in helping Momo curl into her hood, her expression doing that _too-fast-shifting_ thing again before she reached out and hugged him. Aang loved hugs, so melted into it willfully, squeezing her back just as tight. 

"Thank you, Aang," she flashed a much softer smile at him when she pulled away, "I'll show you how to heal when I figure it out too." 

Aang beamed a smile at her, and they shook on it, because healing _sounded awesome._ Then Sokka started shouting, and Aang remembered that the older boy had been _way too quiet for way too long_ all at once.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plans were heavily derailed. Are you surprised?  
Okay, I honestly am so upset this isn't done yet, but I'll be even more actively working on it now. Wanted to finish tonight, but I can't keep letting myself stay up so late so to bed for me for right now.  
Update;  
Me: *stressed because all the things I keep writing for this are too dramatic for my charavter development*  
My Brain: *takes pity on me and finally shoves the right words into the forefront of my mind*  
Me: took u long enough you D E M O N  
FINALLY DONE. I'm so sorry it took so long to get this done. I have no excuses, but yay! Finally finished. *cries*  
As previously mentioned, I take a lot of inspiration from fics that inspire me and hit all my little niche happy-spots, and Aang learning how to heal is one of those. I love 'Aang knows how to heal,' fics, most especially MuffinLances Lil; Zuko fic. (While at the same time, I am desperately trying to not use all the tiny things I find I love, because I want this to be mine, so writing this is a struggle because GHAH what if it sounds like I'm ripping off something else?! Writing is hard.) I am working on some doodles as an apology, but above is something I already had completed. Sorry again.


	17. The hospitality was a lie (and the Sea Prunes weren't ripe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my biggest blocks in terms of writing right now is that I don't want this to be like every other 'fix this sexist patriarchy' fic I've read and loved. As egotistical as it sounds, this is MY fic. If the Northern arch doesn't end with at least one explosion -physical or emotional, I'm not picky- I'm not doing it right.  
Chapter status: 100% Complete

The Northern Tribe had minor histories dedicated to the split of the Tribes and the subsequent couple hundred years directly after. Reading some of this early history -while _heavily skewed_ because it was from the North perspective- explained _a lot _about the Northerner's attitude towards him and Katara. It also explained why some of the _really old_ elders of Orcaseal outright scoffed at the idea of the North ever being in any way _charitable_ without reason.

(It made him worry about what they were going to ask Aang for in return for teaching him, and if Aang would be _able_ to say no. Given the possessive way the Spirits tended to get around him, Sokka was hedging on the possibility of forcing a favor form the Avaatra not being an option, but just in case it wasn't, he needed a plan.)

Zuko twitched next to him, and Sokka glanced from the scroll he'd been incredulously skimming to peek over his battle-buddies shoulder. Azula was several feet away, running her hands along the shelves thoughtfully as she waited for them, and the guards that had tailed them stood a few feet further away from her, shifting nervously. Sokka didn't like them. They were hefty and arrogant, and one of them reminded him of a Lion seal, hungry and gluttonously waiting for them to slip up so he could drag them under.

"This ...this can't be right, can it? I mean, this just seems so . . ." while Zuko struggled for the right words -thankfully _not_ shouting yet- Sokka tried to pick out what had the other boy stunned. The scroll he held, at first glance, seemed like another '_basic reasons for why the Tribes split_,' but it was slightly different in that it didn't go over the _political aspect_ of the Northern Tribe trying to then _strong-arm_ a vow of allegiance from the freshly formed South. This one was about . . . Sokka blinked in mild confusion, then slowly rolled up the scroll in his own hands.

(Which, after a quick glance, he found he was able to sneak into his parka, because Azula had drifted a little further away and was manhandling several scrolls. Sokka couldn't see her face, but he already knew that it must be mildly terrifying, from their baby-sitting guards body-language alone. Lion seal looked torn between flinching back and springing forward and his skinny friend looked a little pale.)

"I don't know if I read that right," Sokka said slowly, making grabby motions at the scroll, which the young Firebender handed over willingly. Sokka tried starting from a point a little further up and re-reading, but it was still both confusing and _alarming_. "I - wow. _Alright_, um. Why don't we _just_ . . . hold on to this one and ask _Yue_ about it when we see her?"

Zuko's only response was to turn back towards the rows of scrolls. Sokka was well-versed enough in '_brooding-angry-former-Prince-who-shouts_' to know that was a _bewildered-agreement_. Sokka went digging in the area the boy had been standing, looking for scrolls that might mention the same subject. There weren't many that he could tell, but then, it might not be the most relevant subject to these people. Azula drifted back to them as Zuko was wordlessly shoving a scroll with a bunch of charts mapped on it into his chest. 

(Out of the corner of his eye, he saw true alarm on the guards now and they were rushing forward. Zuko _would_ be the one to find a super-important document. Lion seal looked ready to ram them into the ground and sit on them.)

Sokka took those moments to seriously study the scroll in his hands, trying to process what the patterns and lines meant before someone took the information from him. As it was, when he realized _what_ he was looking at, he had _even more questions_ than the last scroll Zuko had found, and was slowly building up a _confounded fury_. The scroll was roughly taken out of his hands and he glanced at the men that were gearing up to lecture him. He wasn't sure what his expression was, but for the first time since his arrival, they looked _uncertain_ of him.

(He'd already been upset on Katara's behalf, irritated that these men were being so _stubborn_ about just showing her how to use her _magic_, but he'd been willing to follow her lead when she simply bottled her anger and walked away. He knew that her walking away now was more a _first-time courtesy_ than anything else, that she wouldn't hold back _next time_. Katara wasn't one for holding back -she'd been a wild-moving wave at sea almost from the instant she could tottle around after him. The day she stopped _living furiously_ was the day he knew something was wrong.)

"Why-" he started, but was swiftly cut off by another voice.

"What's going on over here?" _old_ and _scratchy_ and deeper than the _deepest ice-reef_ back home, the elder that spoke had an elaborately braided beard and sharp blue eyes. 

"The Avatar's companions have been poking around in the histories and geographic charts." Lion seal said, almost calm but still too arrogant for his words to be anything less than a sneer. Skinny said nothing, his jaw clenched tightly. Sokka didn't let them continue with _that_ particular line of accusation -he could see the anger building in Lion seal's eyes, and he wasn't about to let them distract him- instead waving his hands and talking quick.

(None of them noticed Azula, fluttering around them all in a wide circle, slipping scrolls she'd already pegged as potentially useful into her coat, watching the coming argument with keen eyes.)

"_Nope_, wait, hold up. Why does that chart map have ocean boundaries on it?" Sokka asked, pointing at the aforementioned scroll accusingly. The elder blinked at him, first in surprise -what, like reading chart maps was hard?- and then in his own confusion. 

"It marks where _our control_ of the waters ends." 

A stretched silence settled over them while Sokka and his brain tried to digest that information. Zuko scowled in extreme confusion, and then Sokka broke his silence in a way he had learned was _entirely appropriate_.

"_What in the name of Mother Tui makes you think you can **own** the ocean!_" 

..........

Sokka got them kicked out of the archives, but they still managed to smuggle the scrolls out. Zuko was a little _extra shouty_ -no matter how much he winced every time- at the guards pushing them out, and the Elder that was still _in_. Sokka was fuming, encouraging some of the things Zuko shouted by adamantly agreeing, and then repeating whatever had just been said. If it weren't for Azula standing firm at her brothers' back, Lion seal and Skinny might have tried to turn it into a real confrontation. As it was, the young Princess had developed a reputation in the week she'd been in the palace, and the Avatar's fretful hovering made them believe it wouldn't be worth it.

Katara managed to get Yue, in the mild confusion, to agree to show her around the palace so she can find somewhere safe to practice. Yue seemed very willing to help, and Katara knew she would be teaching the Princess some basic self-defense. Just because the men here refused to teach their women, didn't mean _Katara_ was bound to their rules. She fully intended to break every one of them if she could.

..........

Yue lead them back to their suite, citing the need for 'some calming tea for the Avatar,' and Zuko had grumbled about it the entire way back. Katara was close to joining the two boys in their fit. On top of everything else they'd learned in the last few hours, finding out that the North was _so far removed_ from the old ways that they thought they _controlled_ part of the ocean was . . . She was still trying to process why. They ended up going through some of the scrolls they'd taken from the archives, skimming the ones that Yue sadi were most important quickly.

(Once again, Yue's idea, and she was clearly trying to _distract them_ from their upset. Katara let her because she didn't want to take this upset out on a new friend -and because Yue, as a young female, likely had_ no say_ in such beliefs. Which was another thing to be upset about and distract herself from. Katara was beginning to think she and Aang should have just _pretended_ to know what they were doing and _stayed in the Earth Kingdom._ Then again, if they had, they never would have met _Yue_, and that thought was unbearable for Katara. Yue was the calm in a storm, the very center of a rage. She knew that after they left the North, Yue would be someone she would _miss_.)

A lot of the scrolls had been written in the last fifty-odd years, if Katara had her dates correct, and they were a bunch of _nonsense_. Zuko and Azula only skimmed a couple of them before they waved Yue off, Zuko muttering something about '_having enough of court-life, thank you,_' and he and Azula were steadily going through some of the scrolls the young Princess had swiped. Yue had frowned at some of them in puzzlement, then quietly asked _why_ the two were so certain that a bunch of _old diaries_ would be helpful in navigating the Northern Tribe. 

Azula had only smiled at Yue slowly, and it was the smile that was a little bit like _Yue's_, docile and demure and kind . . . if you ignored the _too-sharp_ twist to it and the_ deadly focus_ in her eyes. She'd refrained from verbally responding -Katara was grateful for that, because she was _positive_ it would have been somehow _more terrifying_ if the girl had spoken her mind- and Zuko had only given them a small, secret smile of his own. His wasn't _sharp_, but _was_ distinctly amused and oddly _mischievous_. That hint of genuine amusement shouldn't have made her so unnerved, but it did.

Sokka had become ingrossed in whatever he'd taken, laying on the floor in front of the fire, having claimed one of the _fur-feather_ rugs Zuko _hadn't_ taken as a blanket as his '_study space._' Noodle was half-perched on his back, curled up tight and watching the scrolls with _extreme disinterest_. Dumpling -who'd almost permanently claimed one of the couches in the few hours they'd been in the room- was resting in a similarily tight way, though her attention would twitch to Zuko any time he moved. 

(While Dumpling would willfully follow Zuko anywhere, Noodle had refused to leave the fireplace earlier, when they'd went to the meeting. Katara wasn't sure that anything other than mentioning Appa would get the Serval away from the fireplace. She had a feeling that, given the time they intended to spend here, the male King Serval would eventually make his way to staying with Appa in the stables that had been constructed for him. Only the new environment and the people had driven him to follow them into the palace.) 

There was a knock by the door, and a general kind of _quiet scrambling_ to hide the scrolls took place. Yue took her time going to answer, her face morphing into one of impassiveness. Katara nodded at her from where she was lounging on the free couch, Aang having scrambled onto one end of it and perching on the back. Zuko and Azula had done . . . something, and the scrolls were no longer where they'd been. Instead, Azula had taken down her messy hair and shoved a comb at Zuko before sitting in front of him stiffly. Her battle-brother was currently just barely perched on the couch by dumpling, combing his sister's hair in a way that was familiar and _soft_.

(How they had managed to make such a natural-looking scene simply manifest was a mystery. One Katara intended to make Zuko teach her. He'd been holding out on her sneaking lessons.)

Another knock began to sound just as Yue opened the door, smiling softly at whoever was there. A quiet conversation ensued, and then an older woman stepped into the room, flanked by two younger women. The woman's smile was all politeness, but when she saw Katara, she froze, going pale so fast that Katara was instantly alarmed. 

"Are you alright?" she asked, standing and taking a step forward, the woman's look of _wounded-awe_ painful.

"Y- I'm sorry -I," the woman started, waving a hand slowly, some color returning but not all. The two girls at her side looked as concerned as Katara felt, but the old woman brushed them off to carefully dip her head to Katara. 

"I am _sorry_ dear -you just- simply reminded me of a friend I once lost. The resemblance was a shock." The last words were quiet, and Katara allowed herself to settle marginally. 

"I'm sorry for your loss then." She responded just as softly, smiling at the woman before she looked to Yue in question. Seeming to catch the movement, the woman drew herself back up, and smiled at them all in turn. 

"I am Yugoda, a healer of this Tribe. Master Pakku and Chief Arnook asked that I come and attend to some of the Avatar's party." Katara blinked in mild surprise at that, but nodded slowly, stepping back and aside to sit down again. Aang took over easily, bouncing from the couch in a weightless way and smiling at the woman broadly. 

(It had become habit -one forcefully ingrained him by the rest, and one they still occasionally struggled with getting him to stick to- that he let _someone else_ handle most introductions, then step in after. Katara or Iroh were usually the ones to do so, because they were both personable. Zuko and Sokka had far too much _attitude_ to be allowed to make any introductions.)

"Most of us are fine, but Zuko got his head hit _pretty badly_. We'd really appreciate you helping anyway you could!" the monk announced, gesturing back and towards the former Prince. Zuko glanced up from his sister's hair, a gold ribbon that had _suddenly_ _manifested_ caught between his lips. Yugoda and the young women with her made small sounds, all of them watching the boy weave Azula's hair into a complex looking braid with wide eyes. Aang was bouncing on his feet again, then bouncing towards were Zuko sat _excitedly_.

"I would be _most pleased_ if you could fix my brother. Tell me, can you also fix broken self-preservation instincts?" Azula piped up, smiling a little sardonically at the woman. 

(Katara saw Zuko tug at the girl's hair softly in reprimand, but he didn't move his attention from his task.)

Yugoda only hesitated a second before she smiled softly at the girl, and shook her head sadly. 

"Unfortunately, no." 

Azula seemed miffed by that, but said nothing more, and the woman shuffled over to the boy, eyeing Dumpling with a speculative glance. Aang willingly swooped in and cooed at Dumpling, managing to get her to decide that she could just as easily lounged on the other half of the couch while Katara stood and moved around behind it with interest. Sokka took the opportunity to quietly shove the scrolls he'd hidden -by laying on them- back into his parka. 

Zuko tensed when Yugoda sat down, but didn't otherwise look away from tying off Azula's hair, somehow running the length of the ribbon through it and then pulling and twisting until it was an elegant knot at the back of her neck. Yugoda watched him intently, the two young women with her seemingly just as awed, and he only turned to her after he'd pinned the ribbon in place with a set of hairsticks that he also seemingly just _manifested_. 

(Katara was going to make them show her how they did that. She was extremely disappointed that her battle-brother had been holding out on her.)

"It's my understanding you have a serious head injury?" at Zuko's slow nod, she gave him a stern frown, then glanced at Katara in silent question. 

"We fought a Squadron of Fire Nation soldiers a couple of days before we started the last leg of our journey North," she explained slowly, heavily simplifying the events as she spoke, "Zuko somehow ended up in the middle of them and they were . . . less than happy." Katara ended weakly, motioning carefully to the faintly discolored area of Zuko's temple.

(She had the distinct feeling that if she spoke brashly around the young assistants, they might work themselves into a nervous fit. They already looked _appalled_ at the abstract idea of _fighting_. If Katara talked about how hard Zuko's head had bounced, or the way that she was sure some of his ribs were still bruised, she wasn't sure what they would do.)

Yugoda smiled, first at Katara and then at Zuko, in a soothing way as she motioned for one of her assistants to step forward. The girl held out a waterskin -one that was in _much_ better condition than Katara's- for the woman to draw from. When none of them reacted with _surprise_ to the glowing water, she chuckled softly under her breath, and then carefully reached for Zuko's face, talking all the while.

"Now, you'll feel a small tingle, but it shouldn't hurt. You _must_ let me know if it does. Understood?"

Zuko nodding wasn't necessarily a reassurance, Katara knew, but she intended to watch him carefully. From the way that Azula fully turned around and her eyes latched onto the healers' hands, Katara was fairly positive that she wouldn't be the only one. Aang shifted his position just slightly to watch, just as eager as Katara was internally. It took a few minutes -or maybe a little more, it was hard to say- and then Yugoda's small smile twitched into a frown. Before Katara could ask why, the woman shifted carefully, making her movements obvious as she shifted her glowing hands where Katara knew some of the worst bruises -and possible breaks- had been on Zuko's abdomen. 

(Zuko was stiff and tense under her ministrations, but he didn't move more than necessary, his eyes tracking Yugoda's hand with clear curiosity, and mild confusion. Even as he relaxed marginally with each minute that passed, he never completely lost his tension. By the time Yugoda sat up straight and gave a satisfied smile, Zuko looked ready to bounce away.)

"Now, I've managed to heal most of the damage, but there will be _no_ roughhouse for you, _young man_. You'll feel headaches for the next couple days, but they should be minor, and _completely natural_." Yugoda pronounced, swiftly slipping the waters coating her hands back where they came from, and answering Katara's questions without even looking her way, "The headaches are something like _ghost pains_ -it's unfortunate, but such _always_ happens with head injuries."

This only increased Katara's questions, but before she could ask, Yugoda looked at her in thought and then said very carefully, "You're a waterbender, yes?"

Katara nodded, trying to organize her questions from most important to least, when Yugoda continued. 

"Excellent. I had wondered who Master Pakku might be talking about, but I'm glad to see it's you," she announced, standing carefully, "It's not every day I get to teach a young woman the first steps in the Path. Most of my students are very young when they come to me."

A baffled kind of silence stretched, and then Katara could only twist her head in confusion. 

"I'm sorry, but . . . what are you _talking_ about? What _Path_?" She asked -before Aang could, the young monk looking ready with a dozen questions of his own. Yugoda blinked at her in equal surprised, and then smiled gently.

"The _healers_' Path of course! I teach young bending girls how to heal. Master Pakku mentioned after I arrived that one of the Avatar's companions needed training. He asked if I might take them in. Didn't he say as much?"

Flabergasted -and _irritated_\- Katara was about to say that Master Pakku had no right to try and sign her up for anything when she stiffened in thought. It wasn't like she hadn't _already_ decided she wanted to learn healing -it really would one more weapon in her arsenal- and she intended to leave the North with as much knowledge as she could get her hands on. Learning from Yugoda would be just as helpful as studying the scrolls she'd already nabbed about healing. Slowly, her mind already working on how she could use _this_, she smiled at the older woman. 

"I would be honored to learn from you."

If Zuko flinched in her periphery and then pretended to be _completely absorbed_ by Azula ordering him to redo her hair, she pretended not to have noticed.

..........

When they followed Yue to diner, Aang wasn't sure what he expected. He'd only ever visited his _long-ago-now_ friends in the North very occasionally -because Polar Bear Geese _weren't fun_\- and he'd only ever eaten from market stalls before he decided he would rather be _on the wind_ and moving again before _nightfall_. 

(Nightfall was when the Polar Bear Geese tended to find themselves in the then _slightly smaller_ Northern kingdom, _wreaking havoc as they pleased_.) 

The long hall they were lead into was even more _dazzlingly icy_ than the last hall they'd been in. The long tables were set in a stretched U-shaped pattern, the front most one facing the entrance and a slightly raised platform. The tables were staggered in terms of height, two tables flanking either side of the entrance, the back one just higher than the front. Uncle was already in the room, sitting at the slightly far end of the singular the front-facing table across from the entrance, a soft smile on his face as he poured himself some tea. He glanced up at them as they filed in, and Sokka immediately honed in on the man, taking a seat with a couple of cushions in between him and Iroh. Katara sat next to him, and Aang next to her, with Zuko and Azula slotting themselves into the two open seats in between Sokka and Iroh. 

"Where have _you_ been?" Sokka asked with mild suspicion, and Aang leaned over to watch as Iroh grinned broadly in a way that said Katara was about to get irritated. 

"We are in a new climate, my boy! I found the means and opportunity to increase our coffers." He responded slyly, if not a little quietly, and then he tossed a small leather pouch at Sokka. Even _more_ curious now -though possibly irritated on Katara's part- Aang and Katara both shuffled a little closer to peer inside when Sokka opened it. Inside were creamy, clinky little things that were delicately carved with the Water Tribe symbol, varying slightly in size.

"Is that _bone? _" Katara asked softly, and Aang frowned.

Sokka plucked a piece up in his heavy mitten and twisted it around in an impossibly airy way. Aang tilted his head in consideration, remembered the soft, _carved_ _shell_ currency that Orcaseal had given them -_that_ had been familiar currency, as the South had _always_ used carved shells for trade. He was disappointed to see that the North didn't do something similar. Using discarded shells seemed much _kinder_ than using bone.

"This is _definitely_ bone." Sokka announced, nodding once before he plopped the piece back into the pouch and tucked it into his parka. Iroh chuckled at them all, while Azula poured first Zuko then herself some tea, and there was a rustle of heavy fabric when Miss Myong settled on Iroh's other side. 

"Princess," she said softly, ignoring Iroh's nodded greeting. 

(Aang thought that was a little rude for her to ignore Uncle, but Iroh looked both _pleased _and _amused_ by the action, so he let it go.)

Azula looked up from her tea and even though Aang couldn't see her face, he felt like she was doing that _thing_ with her face again, because several of the staff behind Myong shuddered and quickly _devoted_ themselves to whatever their tasks were. Myong's returning smile was so _impossibly_ gentle that for a minute, Aang was reminded of Priestess Taiyu, one of the elders that had smiled in exactly that way no matter what question he asked or how big a tantrum he'd thrown as a very young monk.

(As with most memories or flashes of memory, it hurt, but Aang welcomed the pain, because the people living in his memories _deserved_ to be remembered.)

"Did you retrieve what I asked for?" Azula asked now, and the woman nodded before she turned her attention to her own tea-cup, which Iroh had poured for her wordlessly.

When Azula's profile was in view again, she was outright _smirking_, and Aang felt that it was _perfectly natural_ to be concerned. Thankfully, Zuko seemed to share that sentiment, because he spent the remainder of their time watching other people shuffle into the hall trying to figure out what she'd _done_ or _asked for._ Yue made her way over to them from where her father had been speaking to her and several other people -and Aang noticed the Chief looked _quietly irritated_ the entire time- and he'd thought she might sit next to him when she suddenly took a few steps further and then glanced at Aang a little tiredly. 

"Avatar Aang, would you mind over much scooting over a bit?" 

Genuinely concerned by the wariness in her eyes, Aang did as she asked with a comforting smile, and Katara didn't even hesitate to scoot over when she was nudged, placing the Princess between the two Southerners. 

"Are you alright?" Katara asked quietly, and the Princess nodded briskly. 

"Just . . . tired of arguing over the _same thing_. I'm sorry, but I'll be using you all as a shield for the duration of the meal." Yue intoned softly, and Aang perked up at her, making sure his smile was _extra goofy_. 

"That's alright! I'm _really good_ at distracting people!" He volunteered, and Zuko sighed so deeply Aang could hear clearly from where he sat. "_What?_ I am." Aang argued at the firebender, who leaned forward to give him an almost bland stare. 

"_I know_, Aang. I wasn't _doubting_ you -I was remembering the _Boar-Q-Pine_." 

Aang blinked as innocently as he could, pretending confusion for show before he looked to Yue. The Princess was trying not to smile too wide, he could tell, and Katara was shaking her head at him even before he spoke. 

"I have _no idea_ what he's talking about."

(Internally, he was wondering when he would live down the _Boar-Q-Pine Incident_, and it was looking like 'no time this year,' was the answer. This made all the pranks he _had_ been planning slightly harder to pull off. He should probably see about toning down for a bit, because it was, it was no fun if people _expected_ to be pranked. He had to get back at Zuko for the _sweet-chili-paste_ after all. An eye for an eye and all that.)

Before any more smart retorts could be made, the palace staff began parading into the hall with wide, full dishes of every variety between them. Aang was grateful to see what looked like an _all-vegetable_ plater -even if he only recognized a few of those vegetables- and he was bouncing in his seat again by the time the staff stopped milling around. Arnook made a soft sound and Aang turned just in time to see the man shaking his head in _mild disapproval_ at his daughter before he caught Aangs eyes and smiled a little _too_ widely. Aang recognized that look. 

(Despite what Sokka said about him being _naive_ and _too trusting_, he was fully aware of what people were _doing_ when they gave him _that look_. It might have taken him a couple of months after the Ice Berg to pick up on it, but he _had_. He _hated_ that look. He went to great lengths to avoid letting people with that look sucker him into anything. The parts of him that were still _Aang of the Southern Air Temple_, _Joyous Son of Reitsui_, wanted to be kind and generous and open still. The parts of him that were becoming _Avatar Aang_ knew that he couldn't afford to hand out generosity to _everyone_. Iroh had been teaching him that, and this new world only _highlighted_ the old general's lessons with ever encounter.)

Aang still smiled back, but he made sure it was nothing less than polite, if marginally distant, drawing on the teachings of Elder Monk Taitsyo, who had been so near the end of his time in Aang much young youth that he'd been purposefully distant from everything. He'd been the only elder that hadn't cared what Aang did after he was told about being the Avatar. He had watched and nodded with easy politeness, his eyes forever fixed on a distant horizon. It was much easier than Aang expected it to be to channel the old master when Arnook started talking.

"I am _personally honored_ for you to be with us, Avatar Aang. This day will be _remembered_ in Northern history as the first of _many_ joyous celebrations with the Avatar that _ended_ the hundred-year war." Arnook announced, speaking so hard in the future tense that Aang was temporarily distracted with trying to figure out how the man could be so certain.

Arnook looked like he would have said more, but a soft hush fell over the crowd, and a _super old_ man and woman were lead in, their robes looking too-heavy and their attendants looking _hassled_. Something about them buzzed at the back of his mind, and Arnook shifted uncomfortably as the two were given a place in the middle of the first right-most table. The Chief quickly straightened up beside him and cleared his throat.

"My people," Arnook called, and his voice echoed impressively in the wide hall, "tonight we welcome our Brother and Sister from the south," he announced, gesturing to Sokka and Katara, who received some polite -if confused- claps, "and we welcome one they have led here, guided by our Mother Tui. Someone we believed lost to time -The Avatar!" This received a shocked silence, which made Aang nervous, and then uproarious clapping from the startled people. 

(Aang noted, in the far corner of his mind, the older couple that had made Arnook tense up looking at him weirdly, but it was hard to focus on that with what followed.)

"We also welcome one who will hopefully make our peace talks much easier in years to come- someone that we are hoping will join us in harmony when these troubling times are past. Formerly General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, _true heir_ to the Fire Lords throne." 

The silence this time was _deafening_ while people tried to process this, and Aang realized there was already something weird going on, because he didn't remember any peace talks, nor did he think Iroh did, if the shuttered look he was giving the Chief meant what Aang _thought_ it meant. Azula shifted the slightest bit, leaning forward to give the Chief a look that needed _no interpretation_ via Zuko. Arnook either _pretended_ not to notice, or _sincerely_ didn't notice, and Aang wasn't sure which option was worse.

"I know you are uneasy, my people, but be at ease. Our Mother and Father were consulted before any matters were truly discussed, and all signs point to this time and these people being right for us. Now is not the time to let old hostility get in the way of potential allies, nor is it the time slap the hands outreached to us in peace." While most seemed to take a measure of _comfort_ from the Chief's words, others still gave Iroh and Zuko -and Azula, though they seemed to be trying _not_ to look at her- wary glances. "Now, Master Pakku and his brightest students have prepared a grand show for us. Let the evening begin!" 

On cue, Master Pakku and a couple of young men stepped up and onto the raised dais, getting into familiar stances. Katara leaned forward slightly, her eyes like glacier chips in their focus. Zuko mirrored the movement slightly, and Aang was content to sit back and carefully pick out as many all-vegetable dishes as he could. Between Zuko -who had a strong memory and surprisingly good eyesight for only having one _good eye_ and one _passably-good eye_\- and Katara, who was very good at footwork, he had no doubts that Pakku was accidentally teaching his friend.

Momo crawled out from Aang's Gi suddenly and hopped excitedly in place before he swiped a couple of things from Aang's plate, then jumped from shoulder to shoulder until he was comfortably wrapped around Zuko's. Dumpling, whom Zuko was absently hand-feeding pieces of meat, and Noodle -who was surprisingly curled up in _Azula's_ lap, enjoying the same courtesy from the young girl, vocally greeted the lemur.

(Just because Dumpling and Noodle liked to chase their _flying-furry-squeals-and-hides_ friend, didn't mean they wanted to hurt him. It was just funny when he ran. Besides, social eating was important for a pack -every reasonable creature knew that. Momo tended to agree that the best time to be around his _still-young-but-flock_ friends was when they had _something else_ to focus on but him.)

Everyone started uproariously clapping, and Aang looked back to the stage in time to see Pakku give a stiff nod to the audience, his students following his lead. While the man made his way to the head table, Aang picked at his vegetables, trying not to grimace at the sea prunes anytime he came across one. He'd _never_ liked the taste of sea prunes, but these ones were _especially_ terrible -they were hardly _ripe_. He much preferred whatever the buttery green vegetable was, and the bright blue slices of slightly-sweet-crispy that was _faintly familiar_.

"As you can see, Avatar Aang, Master Pakku is a more than adept instructor," Arnook was saying, and Aang glanced at him distractedly as he tried to separate his vegetables from sea prunes, "and we are hoping you'll benefit immensely from _his_ tutelage."

Aang smiled a little more than politely, because he _did_ enjoy the idea of learning more about waterbending -and _bonus_, he could then teach _Katara_!- and Pakku stirred at Arnooks other side.

"Very well, Avatar. I will expect you in classes tomorrow by first glance of the _sun_." Aang pretended not to notice the very deliberate way he avoided Agni's name, because there were only so many things he could fight about at once, and right now he felt like maybe Agni would forgive him if he focused on ways to help Katara skirt around the rampant divide between males and females. 

(It was very well known, after all, that Agni took the rights of his people seriously, no matter their gender. In the Fire Nation, _all_ people had a right to understand their bending. The fact that it was a death sentence to do anything less only played a minor part in the grand scheme of things. A fire left unattended was the most dangerous kind of fire after all. It was a pity that the Northern Tribe didn't realize that the same could be applied to the ocean -it simply required a lot more words and symbolism.)

"Great!" Aang chirped, instead of spewing any of his thoughts recklessly, smiling at his plate. Soon, something in him whispered, tasting like moonlight and ice, soon he could be a bit freer with his thoughts. Until then, he focused on judiciously hunting out the sea prunes on his plate and tossing them to the side. He _hated_ sea prunes.

..........

An unsteady silence settled over the hall, intermingled with soft conversation and a lively drum-beat from one side that would have been nice to dance to if there weren't a slightly _somber_ undertone. Sokka had slowed down his steady consumption of food to pick lightly at several things on his plate, his attention more often than not drifting over the hall intensely. He'd complained at first about the sea prunes not being ripe, and the meat being far too dry, but those complaints had barely lasted before he went right back to eating. 

(Katara had said, very quietly, that her brother would eat anything, but that mostly stemmed from their own tribe occasionally not having _enough_ to eat. Being overly picky wasn't always an option, but she agreed that her tribe tended to like _ripe_ sea prunes much better than unripe -it was considered mildly insulting if they weren't. Yue filed that information away to stew over later, because not a second later, she was back to observing her Southern friends in interest.)

Yue was suddenly struck by how _serious_ the boy could be, when he was usually the first -_after Aang_\- to act silly or be brash and loud. She'd barely known them a full day, but she still felt silly for only just realizing that unlike the young '_warriors_,' of her tribe, Sokka was very much a warrior. He'd seen real battle, done real harm to others and had harm done to him. The Wolf Tail he wore wasn't for _show_, not like some of the Fox Braids were for others. 

(Her people could _puff_ and _pride_ all they wanted about being _warriors_, the simple fact was that they were too removed and too powerful to claim such titles. When their _only_ interaction with the Fire nation was the _occasional_ scouting ship sent looking for some lost brethren was all the association they had with the world, how could they really say they were _warriors? _) 

Sokka of Orcaseal was different. Despite him being a _warrior_, he was _kind_ and a _little goofy_, with the occasional joke thrown out unexpectedly, often at his _own expense_. Between eating and observing the hall, they'd been having a small conversation that was refreshing, because, despite the fact that he had an ego, he was making an effort to talk about _her_. He asked about what she loved and hated about her Tribe, asked about her favorite view of the city below them, about her favorite thing to read about. She had never felt so _visible_ in her entire life, and a small secret part of her _preened_ at the attention he was giving her.

The boys that were vying for her _father's_ favor only wanted to speak about themselves, or their families, or what they ended to hunt during the next season. It had become habit to _hum_ or _nod_ or _smile_ and just let other people talk, but Sokka wanted her to speak, wanted her to be open with him. He looked at her with wide eyes and smiled openly and _flushed_ anytime she laughed, then quickly included Katara or Zuko in their conversation. His openness stretched to other people and he shared himself so openly that Yue was baffled and pleased and angry that her own people couldn't be like this with her.

"So -so I used _another_ fishhook!" Sokka laughed, and the sound was a soft, pleasant sound that was also boisterous, and Yue found herself laughing along with him. Zuko snorted on his other side, and Katara sighed in fake exasperation, giving Yue an apologetic look while Sokka's shoulder shook uncontrollably next to her.

They settled into an easy silence, with Yue taking a much-needed drink of snow-pear juice, and her father suddenly spoke up. He'd remained mostly quiet from what she could tell, but given what he was trying to talk her into, she wasn't all that invested in whatever he had been speaking to Aang about when he deigned to speak. His next words changed that -but then, they weren't aimed at Aang.

"Ah, yes, I nearly forgot, Prince Zuko. I've made arrangements to move your sister into the Avatar's suite." He said it so off-handedly that Yue knew there would be issues. Azula was the one who responded, almost before Zuko did.

"No thank you." Azula all but growled, and the clink of her cup hitting the table echoed, "I'm _perfectly fine_ with having a separate room. Princesses _do not_ share, Chief Arnook."

A stifled silence settled over the head table, and thankfully, the rest of the hall didn't seem to have heard what was going on. If the courtiers had been made aware of what was happening, her father would have to be even more _insistent_, and while she was sure he would be at least polite while they were at the head table, that could swiftly change if he felt he needed to defend his status against a young woman. Unfortunately, Master Pakku had none of her father's tact.

"You would be _wise_, Iroh, to get a better hold of your niece's _attitude_. She'll never make a suitable bride if you continue to allow this tendency to _blatantly disrespect_ others to run rampant." The Master growled back, and Yue could read between his words well enough to know that when he said others what he meant was 'betters.' Sokka stiffened next to her, and the warmth she felt from Zuko, even with another _person_ between them, intensified. Iroh let out a slow, telling breath, and when he spoke, it was with none of the amusement she'd come to expect from him.

"I would be careful of your _words_, Old Friend. While I will respect your rules, it does not mean I am bound to your _culture_, or your _beliefs_." The quiet warning in those words apparently went right over Pakku's head, because he had a response almost as soon as Iroh finished speaking.

"My culture and beliefs have nothing to do with Princess Azula's _blatant disrespect_ for my Chief." 

A flicker of something in her peripheral had Yue glancing to the side just as Azula leaned forward over the table and _smiled_ at Pakku. It looked like a threat, one she knew her little friend was perfectly capable of following through with. Her age had nothing to do with her ability, that much the girl had proven in the week she'd been in the palace.

"When your Chief shows himself _worthy_ of my respect he'll have it." She announced soft and sweet, but no less clear. 

Her Father finally stirred, his voice equally as stern as Pakku's had been.

"Prince Zuko, if your _Uncle_ will not _reign in your sister_, I would ask that you do." He warned softly. It was definitely the wrong thing to say.

The air around them grew warm in a way she was unaccustomed to, and next to her, Sokka shifted until he was leaning back, his weight put fully on his hands and his attention on the soldiers past Miss Myong. Kata also tensed next to her, but Yu was much too focused in that moment to do anything else but _stare_ at Zuko.

His eyes were liquid gold, and they burned with indignant fury on his sister's behalf. There was a telling heaviness to the air that marked the presence of _spirits_, and she didn't need to see the low fires around them _dance_ and _flare_ and _lean_ towards the young boy to tell her that he was the focal point. That small something inside her that would always belong to Tui grew brighter, grew happier, and she soaked up the warmth he cast. She stopped feeling connected to the words he spoke -those were human concerns, and she hadn't always been very human, but she did listen because he was the one speaking.

(The rest of the hall grew quiet, because nearly sixteen years with a child blessed by Mother Tui had given even the slowest among them the ability to tell when the spirits were present. Usually, when Yue was overtaken by such things, the halls would become lined with new frost and the air would be heavy. She'd been told, once a long time ago, that when Tui was truly with her, her eyes gleamed like slivers of moonlight. Much like Zuko's now looked lit from within by dim candles.)

The Chief drew back instinctively, watching the young man with wide eyes. Agni may not be _his_ Spirit deity, but he knew better than to meddle with the fire spirits that represented him. It had never before occurred to the North Cheif that Agni might also find it in himself to bless children of his nation, but now, looking at the liquid gold of the young Prince's eyes, he wondered why he _hadn't_.

"Were my sister being truly _unruly_, Chief Arnook, I might ask her to remember we are here as guests." The boy bit out, his shoulders trembling with apparent _fury_. "As it is, I haven't found anything about her behavior _unwarranted_. In _my_ culture, you give respect as it is given to you, and though I may have only been here a day, I have seen _nothing_ in your behavior to indicate that you respect either my sister's _status_ or my sister _as a whole_." The words were bitten out, his fists clenched atop the table. 

The creature in his lap was tense, it's bright, bright eyes locked on Arnook as well.

"As it is I will simply _remind you_ that not only is my sister a _Princess_ many generations strong, but she is her _own person_. She makes her own choices, and given _our upbringing_, has been _more than diplomatic_ thus far. I personally value her input and opinions, and would never try to _silence her_." His voice had started loud and clear, but had gotten subtly quieter. That somehow made the anger in him worse than if he'd been yelling. Yue watched in amazement as the boy visibly struggled with reigning his fury in, then stood abruptly, his clenched fists trembling. "I thank you for this meal, Cheif Arnook, but I'll be retiring now."

He was walking away from the table before anything more could be said, and though Azula was clearly _seething_, she stood and followed her brother, as did Iroh, who looked gravely concerned as he marched after his niece and nephew. Miss Myong hesitated a second before she slipped into one of the abandoned seats, and then Sokka was also standing abruptly.

He gave Yue's Father a long, intense look, almost as if he were trying to divine something, and then he loped away in a nearly Arctic Lobster Wolf-like way. Katara and Aang remained, the two casting one long glance at each other before their attention shifted to Arnook. Her father said nothing, seeming to struggle with preserving his own image in the eyes of the Tribe and something else. 

"I believe, Avatar Aang, I may have . . . insulted your spirit-blessed companion." Arnook said carefully, almost neutrally. 

Aang seemed to think about his words deeply, then slowly nodded at her father in a way that was both polite and distant. 

"You did. In Fire Nation culture, accusing anyone of behaving dishonorably is grounds for a confrontation. It's akin to some from the North . . ." here the Avatar paused, tilting his head in apparent thought, "it would be like one Warrior accusing another Warrior of stealing a weapon, maybe. I'll admit I'm a little bit behind on current taboos-alright, so a hundred years behind. Regardless, your insinuation that Princess Azula is essentially being unruly implied _dishonor_ on his family, and your dismissal of his _Uncle_ as the head of their family unit was _equally_ as bad." The Avatar suddenly leaned forward, his eyes flying to Miss Myong. "Did I get that right? Is that still how it's done?"

"I cannot speak for the specifics of my _Prince's_ displeasure, Avatar Aang, but the idea is correct." She replied easily, smiling down at a new cup of tea. 

"That is-" 

Aang stirred in a flurry of motion, cutting off whatever Master Pakku had been about to say.

"_Essentially_, you don't know enough about Fire Nation culture to be accusing them anything, as it is -or was- quite typical for those in the Fire Nation to reserve outright respect for their peers until their own standards were met." Here, the Avatar's expression went sad and soft, "I imagine a _war_ and a new drive for _perfection_ have probably effected what the _normal_ standards are. The problem here is that Azula is a Princess, so her standards will be _high_. I know you haven't asked for it, Chief Arnook, but I feel that as the Avatar, it's my duty to help foster peace where I can, and I'm officially recommending that your ambassadors speak with whoever is acting as Azula's to determine how you can speak peacefully, or at the very least, figure out what's considered taboo."

The words were firm for a child that had spent the majority of the day bouncing on his toes, smiling with _over-eager_ excitement. But then, all the old scrolls she'd read about the Nomads had said that the monks were considered peace-keepers and excellent negotiators, citing that many had been brought in during the time before the Fire Nations first attack, to help when conflicts became_ too big_ and _too personal_.

Master Pakku still looked like he had a few _choice words_, as did her Father, but he nodded at Aang slowly, because really, there was no arguing with the _Avatar_. Aang's too-polite smile flashed again, and then he was excusing himself and Katara, which clearly surprised her father. It didn't surprise Yue -but she was sad to see them go, and even more upset when Myong trailed after them. Thankfully, her father was too consumed with keeping things cordial and cutting off rumors before they could start for the rest of the evening, so he didn't notice when she slipped away ahead of him. 

Hearing the Avatar talk of negotiations had brought up her own dilemma, but she was thinking that there might actually be a way out of it now. All she needed was someone to act as the 'ambassador,' between her and her father . . . and possibly a solid back up plan or three if the first failed. Yue knew few things as well as she knew that she would _not_ be letting anyone try to force her into marriage because it was her '_duty._'

* * *

Very late that night, Arnook sat, _exhausted_ at the head of the council and eyed his fellow councilors. He was surprised to see old Kuraka among them, and felt a whole _new_ headache forming. The five men who flanked the elder looked even more determined than _usual_ to give Arnook a taste of Yama's fire. Pakku took his seat roughly, looking even more irritable than ever. 

"_Well?_ What exactly are we going to do about those _Ashmakers?_" Old Tuuka asked, a spark of hateful fury in his eyes. 

Tuuka's hatred wasn't directed at the Avatar's _companions_, not really, because Tuuka _hated everyone equally_. Arnook regretted that he still hadn't found a replacement for the man, but unfortunately, the old warrior was relatively well-liked because his mandates were at least _fair_ if not _hot-headed._

"Nothing," Arnook announced, and rose a forestalling hand when several of them went to complain, "I know, you don't trust them, but Pakku swears that they _can_ be trusted, _and_ you heard the Diviners the same as I. The Avatar's chosen companions must _not_ be harmed in _any_ way."

Pakku stirred next to him, his irritability suddenly three-fold when he spoke.

"I'm less concerned about that and _more concerned_ about what we should do about the _girl_." He growled. 

Arnook blinked in mild confusion, then belated realized what the Master was talking about. 

"The Southern girl? Why should we do anything? Yugoda said she's agreed to attend lessons tomorrow. Our obligation to her ends there." He waved the words away, but Pakku persisted, his expression even more pinched than usual.

"Chief, even _you_ must see that merely being shown how to _heal_ won't appease the child. She's _clearly_ the reckless type -why _else_ would she insist that she must be the one to follow the Avatar around? That child is going to get herself _killed_, and I for one don't want her death on _my conscience,_ not when we could _do_ something about it." 

Arnook deliberated over the words for several long minutes, then sighed. He could see mild agreement around the room -or rather, in the parts of the room he was willing to look at- and while he knew he was going to regret it, he conceded to at least hear the man out. 

"What did you have in mind then? It had better not be anything like the _Lobster Wolf Bait Incident_." That got him a few chuckles, and some loosened shoulders. Arnook had learned that sometimes, that was all one could hope for in life, especially when one was a chief. There were moments he envied the Southern Chief -at least up until he remembered that the Southern War Chief was in charge of a crumbling people involved in the violence. Arnook pushed that thought aside and settled back, letting the conversation flow around him, and trying not to think about how hurt his daughter had looked earlier, and then startingly, how _angry_ the Southern child had looked when they'd told her she wasn't _allowed_ to learn how to fight.

..........

Hakoda watched the Snowy Owl Pigeon as it winged its way towards his place on the ship, and was briefly concerned about what he should be _more_ focused on. The clearly distinguishable boat they had left Bato, coming at them with as much speed as the man aboard it could offer, or the rare and _unexpected_ correspondence from the Chief of the Molefox tribe. ultimately, he focused on the correspondence, because it was going to reach him first, but he allowed himself to be distantly excited about Bato's return. He'd missed his old friend, had been worried _sick_ the whole time he was on his own. 

Those around him shot him distantly curious looks as he received the bird, but he paid them little mind as he towards his 'office,' absently ordering one of the younger men to let him know as soon as Bato was in shouting distance. He'd thought the correspondence was another status report of Fire Nation movement in the far south, along the route they tended to send large numbers. Namotuk would occasionally send him information about those movements. What he wasn't expected was what the letter actually _contained_. 

With every word he read, his throat tightened a little more, his heart sped up and shattered a little quicker, and by the time he'd numbly read it a fourth time over, the information was starting to make sense. He wished it wasn't. Mother Tui he felt like his brain had broken out of his skull and rolled away, and he was positive that his heart was in his stomach. He heard muffled shouting, and stood quickly, clenching the letter in one hand and shoving his way back onto the deck with the other. The words were burning in his mind.

. . . _imagine my surprise when your mother and your entire tribe walked out of the storm and into our tribe, asking for hospitality and help_ . . . 

. . . _but not your own children. Rest assured that, according to Elder Kanna, they are well, or we assume they are_ . . . 

. . . _with none other than the Avatar himself! Of course, the addition of a couple of Ashmakers to the tale was enough to turn my stomach, but_ . . . 

He must have looked even _paler_ than he felt, because his men kept shooting him worried looks. He ignored all of them to focus on the boat that they were scrambling to hook up a tow line to, and the figure that was frantically trying to get on board. 

"Good moonlights kiss, Bato, what's gotten into you!" someone shouted. Hakoda only had to look at his friend to know that whatever it was, it was nearly as bad as his own news. When they locked eyes, Bato charged towards him, looking sick to his stomach, and Hakod clenched the letter in his hand carelessly. 

"We need to talk!" They announced in unison. 

(And that, _despite everything else_, helped to ease some of the weight he'd felt in the last half hour. Knowing his friend was here with him, would stand with him, and more importantly, had managed to stay out of _trouble_ . . . that was better than he could have hoped for. It was a very illuminating and gut-churning night. There were days he envied the Northern Chief. At least all he had to worry about was appeasing a bunch of snobs and not whatever life-threatening antics his children were getting up to.)

* * *

Zhao hadn't responded to any of his missives in some time, and in the moments that Ozai could think on this, it made him furious. During one of his more lucid moments, he sent an order to any ships heading North to return to their original posts. Whatever the man was doing, it would not affect the stranglehold Ozai had on the South-West pieces of Earth Kingdom he had managed to take and hold the past years.

"Sire, the enginers you requested have responded to your missive. They seem excited about the designs." His current steward said softly, and Ozai stopped glaring at the map hung on one wall to watch the man with narrowed eyes. 

He ... couldn't remember whatever the man was referencing, which served to make him even _more_ irritable. It must have shown on his face, because the fool in front of him shook the slightest bit.

"Bring me the copies of whatever those missives are pertaining to." He ordered roughly, watching as the man bobbed a too-fast nod and carefully set the scroll he held in front of Ozai before fleeing. 

A quick study of the reply had him confused, but once he had all the copies, including the copies of the 'designs,' Ozai smiled, the first real, lucid smile in months. Perhaps Zhao hadn't been completely useless, but something would still have to be done about the man. A quick lance of pain in his mind, and his thoughts began to teeter, scattering everywhere at once. This particular instance was the longest to date that he'd been lucid, hopefully with many more to come. He was lost to his own mind again in the next instant. 

(When he was next lucid, he had a new steward. He had no idea what happened to the old one, and he wasn't inclined to ask.)

* * *

Azula snuck into their suite that night. Despite her words to Arnook, and the fact that Zuzu shared his suite with the whole _rag-tag_ group he'd arrived with, Azula found her feet moving almost before Myong was _conveniently_ retiring early for the night. she had _missed_ her brother.

(It had taken a lot of _introspection_ over the last seventeen odd hours for her to admit this even to _herself_.)

She hadn't been able to speak to him alone yet, and something told her she probably wasn't going to be able to. His head injury was no longer a problem thankfully but the Avatar's unknown time table was, and she was having a hard time _planning_. There was an urgency to talk to him, and this one time, she acted on instinct rather than cool logic. She did that a lot where her brother was concerned. It was habit to conceal her movements through the palace. 

(This instinct had been born of many years where she'd have rather been sleeping in her brothers' bed than her own, but knew getting caught resulted in several days of _dejected sadness_ for Zuzu.)

The moonlight watched her slipping down the hall, silvery, cool light reflected off of the ice in sharp glances. Azula glared at it in turn and mentally told herself that _moonlight couldn't see because spirits weren't real_. It took a lot more effort to ignore the laughing chill down her spine than it did the warm nudges on her shoulders during the day. Azula ignored the fact that she was _ignoring_ the dim, _icy light_ and slipped into the Avatar's suite with no one the wiser, not even the stupid guards that were _supposed_ to be watching and waiting for her brother to turn into an _Ash-making murderer_.

(The men here were all _stupid_. If it came down to one of the fire-benders in these halls having a _murderous-raging fit_, it would be _her_ or _Iroh_. Probably her more than her Uncle. Uncle Iroh would only become murderous if any of the Northern idiots forgot Zuzu was a Prince that was _protected_.)

Having had a couple of minutes earlier that day to scout ahead, when Yue first brought them into the room, Azula made her way from the 'common' sitting area and into the bedroom she knew they intended to _share_. She'd been initially _appalled_ at the idea of sharing sleeping space with any of them, but it had made sense a moment later. No matter how well-intentioned the Northerns seemed, this was a group that Azula knew -even if it was _second-hand_ knowledge- was most often on the _defense_ in their travels. Sharing a sleeping space made _strategic sense_, rather than risk splitting the group between different rooms.

(She still didn't like the idea of having any of them _seeing_ her here.)

They'd clearly pushed some of the furniture around since her glance earlier that day. The two beds that had formally been on opposite sides of the room were now pushed together and directly in front of the door. There was a similar set up in the back left corner, and a single bed in the back right. The water tribe siblings were sleeping on the bed closest to the door, with the Avatar and Zuko in the back left corner -they'd _allowed_ her brother to be close to a window? It did make sense of course -of all of them, Zuko _was_ the most likely to be able to keep up with the Airbender. Uncle was snoring in the back right corner. 

(She contemplated turning around and walking back out. She didn't want to risk waking the Avatar and having the boy wake the _whole palace_ with his _over-eagerness_. Even the thought of being too close to his _touchy-too-happy-face_ made her wince.)

But. Zuko was right there. 

Once again her feet were moving before she could think the decision through, and she slunk past the sleeping siblings with as much _quiet swiftness_ as possible. She realized too late that the King Servals were also present, one fo them -probably Dumpling, she thought, given the slight _tawny-darkness_ to her coat- was watching her from a curled position behind Zuzu's knees.

Her brother's back was to her, but she saw it stiffen just subtly at her continued approach an instant before the other Serval -this one was _definitely_ Noodle, that silly little stripe going from one corner of his mouth could only make him Noodle- raised it's head to watch her appraisingly from where it spilled over the Avatar's chest. The monk didn't even twitch in his sleep, his chubby, too-young face serene. The Serval on his chest shifted and stretched his wings, hiding the boy from view. 

(She could feel the animals' inner fires, now that she was closer. They were weaker, true, but no less prominent in the creatures. They clung to Zuzu's warmth, _basking_ in it in a way she understood all too well.)

She finished her journey by carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed and tapping out the old, familiar pattern on her brother's back. He turned to her in mild surprise, his eyes open and alert, but his shoulders were losing their tension now. He Rolled over carefully, then lifted one side of his heavy blanket -actually, peering closer, that looked like one of the _rugs_ from the sitting room- and she slipped in soundlessly. 

(Her own inner fire, sparking and spitting and _too-hurting-bright_ stuttered then calmed, for the first time in a year. All too suddenly, she felt _exhausted_, and she didn't even wait for him to quietly start the conversation, like he used to.)

"I wanted to burn Father's _stupid_ beard off his _stupid_ _face_." She started, angry and quiet, shoulders trembling with rage rather than cold for the first time in days. Zuzu looked stunned, then a series of other expressions that were too fast for her to try and catalog. "He _hurt you_ and I had to _watch_ and _smile_ and be what he wanted. I wanted to burn him and everyone else for letting him."

Zuko's hand, calloused where it hadn't been before, came up to slip some of her hair back. He nodded, slow and understanding, no old hurt in his eyes, but something else that was _too-mixed_ for her to place. His emotions were always so complicated. If she were better at reading people that might not be such a problem.

"I'm sorry I left you _alone_, Lala." Zuko whispered back, soft the way they had to speak at night, or anytime they weren't arguing for the Fire Lords benefit. Azula felt another surge in her stomach, tight and wobbly all at once, her mouth dry and her throat _burning_. 

"I don't understand what I've been _feeling_, Zuzu." She answered back, rather than forgive him. They both pretended her voice didn't wobble. 

(She had already forgiven him of course. He would -_should_\- know that. It wasn't his fault his face had been burned up, and while he was responsible for being an _idiot_ and _speaking out_, she couldn't really _fault_ him. Zuko was _Zuko_, and no matter how stupid he was being at any given moment, his intentions were usually ... _kind_.)

Zuko fell into their old pattern with surprising ease, his smile the same, soft smile he always used specially for _her_. Zuko had, for a long time, been the only person that had a _special smile_ for her, one that said many things without saying anything. Myong was good at her own version of Zuzu's smile -even if she'd never seen Zuko smile at Azula- but Zuko's smile for her was ... Azula didn't have words for what it made her feel. 

(She never had. She'd tried to explain it to him once, but he'd been just as confused. She'd almost burned up their mother's fire-lily-roses in frustration when even _Zuzu_ didn't understand a feeling, but he'd turned right around and told her that even though he didn't have a _word_ for it, he _knew_ it. He felt it for her _too_, when she did something funny or ordered -_see: asked in her own way_\- him to help with her hair.)

"What kind of feelings?" He whispered. Azula scooted closer to him, her lips twisting into a frown as she tried to find the words to explain _everything_. It was always hard to find the _spoken-words_ that fit with the _specific rolling_ of her gut or the _level of heat_ in her blood, or the different and distinct _kinds_ _of tightness_ in her face.

They spoke for a long time, with her stumbling through several explanations, and him trying to help her place the feelings with names. Then she made him tell her about _everything_ that had happened since he left. It was fairly simple to follow -except for the times where he was clearly hiding something he'd done. However, she was very good at picking and choosing her battles, so instead, she tried to understand his reasoning for _Uncle_ being _Agni's Chosen_.

(She might not believe in Agni, but there was a clear record in Fire Nation history where certain, good Fire Lords had all the same _traits_, and Uncle had only _some_ of those traits. She wasn't sure how his being the Fire Lord would work, but ...)

There wasn't any good way to talk him off of that particular ledge, and really it was _better_ if he kept thinking of their Uncle as the next Fire Lord. Then he got to talking about his birthday. His description of a dream that seemed _eerily familiar_ made her a little agitated -_it was a coincidence, she told herself, clearly a coincidence_. She isn't sure when she drifted off to sleep, but the last thing she hears him talking about is _purposefully_ and _willfully_ breaking into a Fire Nation prison to _free_ _Earthbenders_ before she was asleep.

(She dreamed of the most bizarre creature, silver and shimmery and draped in robes and furs that gleamed with hidden starlight, and the same, golden, gilded man-dragon from _months_ before. Zuko was there as well, looking a little put-out, his eyes anywhere but on the creatures in front of them. The creatures spent some time laughing quietly while she outlined her plans for the North. Zuko smiled at her the entire time.)

She would never know, but there _were_ witnesses to their conversation. Iroh and Katara had woken when she'd entered the room, but stayed 'asleep,' for different reasons. Katara had stayed quiet because she wanted to know what Azula, who clearly _cared_ for her brother but was outwardly cold, would do when she felt she wasn't being watched. Iroh had stayed _asleep_ because he had only a little understanding of his Niece -most of it second hand from his Nephew- and knew that if he had been awake, the girl would have simply _left_. Sokka woke at some point, unusually quiet and _alert_, but had relaxed when he picked out Azula's voice. Aang had woken up as soon as the girl slipped into bed, but it had felt so wrong to overhear everything and then ...

Then they were given a very clear picture of what others would call Azula's _problem_, but what they knew to be a _difficulty_. The way Zuko had always described it, most of them had assumed that the girl was simply too _obtuse_ to realize what some social interactions could mean. They'd never imagined that when Zuko quietly said 'Azula has trouble with understanding emotions,' he meant _literally_. It was a unanimous, _unspoken_ decision that they would never speak of this. 

(They did stay awake through the whole conversation, warmed and awed by the Prince and Princess, both children equally awkward in their own way. For Iroh, it only served to show him that despite their Father's disposition, despite the _corruption_ of the Fire Nation, good things could still come of it. Things like a good, slightly awkward older brother determinedly helping his too-smart little sister understand herself and the world around her in a way that made _sense_. He had never felt so heart-wrung in all his years than he had when listening to his Niece, in a display of emotion he had never before heard from her, describe _loneliness_.)

(Aang decided they were _going to be friends_, and she would have to _just accept that now_. Katara and Sokka quietly decided that Azula would make a great battle-sister.)

* * *

Come morning, Azula was gone, and Katara wasn't sure when it happened. It seemed like between one hazy spot of wakefulness and the next, the child had simply _vanished_. She felt like her eyes were too-dry and her head a little foggy as she got up fro the day, but it only took the briefest reminders about what the day would bring for her to perk up. She would learn how to _heal_ today. It might not have been _combat_, but at least it would be _useful_, and any opportunity to practice bending was something to be grateful for. Zuko woke up when she got Aang up, and then he was up for the day too, moving into the common room to do fire-less warm-ups while she and Aang scrounged up something to eat for everyone. It ended up being some dried fruit and some seeds, and Zuko wolfed down the handful of fruit she offered and then kept going through his Kata's. She and Aang dwadled because they could.

"I hope Master Pakku is a _good_ teacher," Aang muttered, frowning at some of the leftover nuts and seeds. 

"At least you'll actually be learning how to fight," she reminded him softly, smiling when he colored slightly in apology. She brushed his words away before he could speak them, nibbling on her own fruit thoughtfully. "It's _fine_. I already know some, and you promised to share what you learned, just like I'll share what I learn." 

Aang's usually goofy smile returned full force, and Zuko stopped his mad twirling a few feet away to glance at them curiously.

"Did you want me to see if I can observe the lessons? It might help if there's more than one pair of eyes on what Aang is being taught." He asked quietly, and Katara felt another one of those deep, fluttery feelings in her chest. Yesterday they'd reminded her that she had support after that _disastrous_ meeting, where she'd been told that being a _girl_ meant she _wasn't strong_. It was good to know that her chosen family thought otherwise. She couldn't help the smile she flashed Zuko, and was grateful to see him smile back. 

"If you _can_, I'd appreciate it. You know how Aang can be with _little details_." Aang sent them both an affronted look, pouting adorably from where he'd perched on the couch, though he didn't seem to be _truly_ taking it to heart if the sparkle in his eyes was anything to go by. 

Azula showed up several minutes later, and after ducking in to let Sokka and Iroh know they were leaving, the four of them walked to the meeting point Aang had been given -or rather, Katara escorted them to the entrance and was startled to find that Yue was already there waiting. The men on either side of the entrance seemed to feel out of place anytime the Princess smiled at them in a serene way. They tried to stop Zuko and Azula from going inside, but there was very little that could actually _stop_ Azula from doing as she pleased, and the guards at the entrance were simply unfit to handle a bull-headed, firebending child with enough _menace_ to put evil spirits to shame.

She and Yue chatted while they walked to Yugoda's healing hut, and they parted with Yue's promise to pick Katara up and show her around, as she said she would the day before. Katara found herself giving the other girl a firm hug, felt the usually turbulent wave of emotions in her subside slightly when Yue returned it. She had to take the first step towards _really_ understanding her bending on her own -but that was a good thing. 

(It was one of the most informative days Katara had ever had. Yugoda wasn't shy about answering questions, even when Katara had dozens of them, and she stayed a little while after, inviting Yue in so that the girl wasn't waiting outside. Yugoda seemed a little odd about that, but she quickly grew accustomed to it. By the time she was running out of questions about healing, she was left with questions about the North.

This lead to the unexpected and heart-wrenching discovery that Yugoda had known her Gran-Gran. The woman's unexpected tears would have made Katara feel terrible if she hadn't known they were happy tears. Several streets up and away, Aang was dragging himself away from a lesson that he swore up and down had been unnecessarily hard, and refused to explain why when Zuko and Azula asked. Not until they were back in their suite.)

* * *

* * *

* * *

I couldn't gracefully work this into the endnotes, so sorry: Someone asked about the Polar Bear Geese, so I figured I'd just re-amp the hype; **MuffinLance** is the wonderful, wonderful person who created them, she's just letting me borrow the concept. If you want to read about them in her fic, you can find them in _Little Zuko V. the World_. [This](https://shedrabbles-butitsalie.tumblr.com/post/190620146677/i-love-the-polar-bear-goose-because-if-there-was) is where you can find some gorgeous fan art of them. :) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote every one-on-one scene between Zuko and Azula while listening to Love you any Less by Rag'n'Bone Man, because oh damn did it hurt listening to it while thinking of these two. Expect some heavy edits to take place as I flesh this out and add more.  
This turned into one of the longest chapters yet.


	18. Isn't this how politics works?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter status: 100% complete
> 
> Still alive! Had a ....rough couple weeks there, mentally, but I'm feeling more myself. Deeply sorry for the sudden stop in all things writing, but hopefully I'll be back on track here.
> 
> EDIT: 5/4/2020 May want to re-read the chapter, changes have happened:  
WOW. Yeah, so that happened. I'm super ridiculously sorry. Things went from 'getting better,' to 'crippling self-destruction,' faster than I could keep up with. A lot of shit has happened in the last . . . .*squints at last updated* two months?  
I'm slowly working my way through it though. The major writer's block I was suffering as a result of all the crap in my life is slowly clearing up, so here's hoping I can get back to some kind of update schedule.
> 
> Additionally, thank you to everyone who reviewed or commented. I haven't had the energy to respond to any of them, but I read every single one, and even if it was only a heart emoji, it helped. So seriously. Thank you all. I'm not sure if I will respond, but please know I appreciated them all the same.

The winds had been changing for quite some time. It started as a slow, bleary wakefulness in the South, and then crept ever towards them in the East. Priestess Taiyu was able to focus, today, on the feeling and let the knowledge roll over her. The Spirits were alive with chatter that she had not seen in a hundred years. Not since an excitable boy-child had tossed question after question at her, barely slowly to breathe through the wonder on his face. She had smiled then as she smiled now. 

"Aang." A whisper. A croak. She hadn't used her voice in a very long time. 

She had been old when the child was born to them, and old when he vanished from the world the same day everything she knew had nearly _burned_. It had been hard, to think him lost, to hold on to hope that the Spirits had been kind and saved him from the fate so many of her other children had shared. He had been a bright child, so willing to love and forgive and learn. It hurt that someone so bright would be burdened with something so great, but she'd known, like many others, that the burden would only make him stronger. 

"Grandmother?" A soft voice, one of the children of her children sitting close, likely summoned by the stir of wind on her lips. 

She smiled again, because it had been a long time since she felt this hope.

"Aang." She whispered again, with certainty. She had thought this year would be the year she finally left this world. 

Perhaps, just _perhaps_, she would wait a little longer. She did so miss her Southern Grandson. The girl in front of her offered her some water, and Priestess Taiyu lifted old, crippled, burned hands to ceremonially cup the girls own. She didn't feel the soft pressure of this granddaughter of her daughter, but she felt the air through her lungs and the spirits in her mind.

"Aang." She intoned again, with finality. 

(She knew the poor girl didn't understand, but she was trying, bless her.)

Priestess Taiyu sat back to wait. She was very good at waiting. She would see him soon. Her Eastern Father never lied.

* * *

It had been several long, _grueling_ days since the _disaster_ of a first day. They'd had to suffer through more morning, afternoon, _and_ evening meals -most of them almost always cut _abruptly short_ by someone in the party becoming too irritated to finish the whole meal. After that first day with Zuko storming off, they'd had hopes that things would be better if not outright _less_ irritating. They were wrong.

(Arnook may have apologized for the way that he and Pakku spoke to them, but Zuko had quite openly -at least in the privacy of their rooms- doubted the man's sincerity. The happenings at every meal only proved that he wasn't truly aware of how rude he and his own people acted. )

As it was, Katara and then Azula had been the next to abruptly leave the meal-time tables, and by the end of the third day, Sokka had also joined in parading them out. No one was quite sure _what_ had made the normally snarky but good-natured boy as irritable as a snapping Arctic Lobster Wolf, but they had all seen him being drawn aside by several warrior-like men. What had been _said_ was the real issue -and Sokka refused to talk about it, his eyes almost _arctic-levels_ of _icy_ when asked.

(Zuko had apparently tried, taking the other boy aside in concern. This had lead to a spur of the moment sparing match in one of the icy courtyards that drew a lot of attention. Sokka had seemed less tense after, but had still refused to repeat whatever made him mad. Zuko hadn't pried much further, and had told the rest of them to let it be.) 

They were on their _fourth_ day now, and the only bright spot what felt like their _lifetime_ of a visit had been the bending instruction. Aang's lessons with Pakku were apparently _'alright,'_ but nothing like the lessons Katara had been giving him to that point. Zuko, who'd consistently and stubbornly followed the Air Nomad to each lesson, had growled a lot of choice words about the man's teaching method.

(Something about him being almost as bad as Zuko's royal instructors, just without the _breaking bones_. The conversation they had pulled out of him after that little surprise had been confusing -for him- and anger-inducing for the rest of them.)

Despite Pakku's apparent failings, Zuko, Aang, and Katara found somewhere to practice what the man taught -usually the closed-off, apparently secret pond where no one was supposed to go. Yue had shown it to them the afternoon after their first lessons, smiling wide all the while. The pond -where two, suspiciously weird fish tended to watch their practice- had become their meeting place. It was where Zuko helped Aang teach Katara, and where everyone but Aang showed Yue how to defend herself. 

It was also where Katara willfully taught Aang healing, giving the boy all of her knowledge from her lessons with Yugoda. 

"This is how a community is supposed to work, you know," Katara muttered offhandedly to Yue, the Southern girl's head bent over one of the many pilfered scrolls. Yue blinked over at her friend, waiting for her to elaborate, and when she didn't, the spirit-touched Princess turned fully from where she'd been watching Sokka and Zuko practice their swordsmanship -against a grinning, dodging Aang.

"What do you mean?" She inquired softly now, and Katara looked up, the absent expression on her face vanishing with her full focus now on Yue. 

(She did that a lot. Turned her focus from _something_ to _someone_ so decidedly. It was nice speaking to someone that clearly valued the discussion.)

"This," Katara said slowly, motioning not just to where they were sitting, with scrolls spread between them, but to where Azula was now _helping_ Aang -see: using his Gi to tug him around- to avoid getting tapped with a sword, the two younger children clearly making a game out of the older boys training, "A healthy _community_, a _working_ community, shares it's knowledge between its members openly. It's how the South has survived as long as it has. If one of us learns a new way to fish, we _teach it_ until everyone knows. You're only as strong as your weakest member -because it only takes one crack in the ice for the whole party to drown."

Yue thought about that, rolled the words around in her head and then tried to line the concept up with her own people. She didn't like that she _couldn't_ confidently say that if her people stood on thin ice, the weakest among them would help to keep them from drowning. They may have been a tribe of Waterbenders, but their women were not taught to bend water into ice, to hold the shape of it for long. 

Such things took training and endurance, to take something moving and wild and turn it into something stagnant and solid - to keep it that way . . . it took training and endurance and strength. That was not something freely or readily given to all of their number. Admitting that, even in the privacy of her own mind, hurt.

(Mother Tui but her people were at such a disadvantage, compared to the rest of the nations. Even the Earth Kingdom, which rarely let their women fight, at least taught them how to _defend_. Her people, in comparison, were floundering Puffin-bats, always at risk of drowning without an adult near-by to drag them to safety.)

Yue was still thinking about this, hours later, as she watched what she suspected would be the first of many 'shows' being put on by Zuko and Azula. They were sitting in the courtyard before the dining Hall, Zuko perched carefully on the edge of a wall, Azula standing patiently in front of him. Her Spirit blessed cousin was deftly twisting Azula's hair into something elegant and tame for dinner. The girl looked unnaturally peaceful through the whole thing, her hands clasped firmly in front of her, eyes tracing lines over the icy walls. 

Sokka was leaning against the wall next to Zuko, arms crossed and looking bored out of his mind . . . while Katara fixed the boy's own wolf-tail, which Yue absently noted was getting more complicated. Katara was adding braids and beads to it at her leisure, apparently no rhyme or reason to the distinguished decorations. Aang was bouncing around the group, chattering loudly and excitedly, looking for all the world like he'd had a day of relaxed fun instead of grueling training.

(Some of the court that saw these things scoffed and shook their heads. Others stopped and stared. Their real target audience, the young women Yue fully intended to draw into their sessions, were subtly observing everything. Many of them had never considered that a young man could willfully sit down and do his sister's hair. Many more had never considered that a warrior-boy would consent to having his hair done in the open. None of them knew what to make of Aang, happy and excited and alive, but rumored to be the bridge between thier world and the Spirit Realm.)

The hazy, barely conciveed plan she'd been toying with took one more step into focus. Yue _smiled_ at nothing as she joined the group and started a conversation with Sokka. 

(He saw her smile and he flushed, his eyes going wide and his fingers twicthing where they clutched his arms. Katara pulled on his hair, and Yue got the impression that the boy had tried to move. Tui's laughter drifted over her skin. Yue agreed with her Mother. Sokka of Orcaseal was so very _refreshing_.)

* * *

Hakoda paced, and seethed, and crumpled the offensive missive sent back to him by the North and contemplated the merits of declaring war on the snobby bastards. His lovely visions of taking Chief Arnook's head died about the same time the other Chief's _reinforcements_ showed up riding tidal waves over Hakoa's meager forces. It was still a nice daydream. Bloody? Yes, but that was to be expected. He was a Father, one that had been stuck in a war. One that had thought his children as safe as they could be, but now found they were the complete _opposite_.

They had walked into the thick of it, at the behest of the Deities that Hakoda prayed to, at the side of a resurrected Avatar. Hakoda hardly wanted to believe the spirit-tale, but if the missive clenched in his fist is anything to go by, it isn't. His children are alive and well, and giving their Sister Tribe grief. Despite the dark twist of his thoughts, Hakoda laughed at that, and Bato walked in looking irritated. 

"Well?" His second asked, and Hakoda shoved the missive into his friend's chest.

Hakoda could tell when he got to the part about his daughter boldly sparing the disgraced Fire Nation Prince with weapons because Bato started choking on nothing. Nodding to nothing in particular, Hakoda pulled out his maps to do some quick calculations, because he already knew they were too far away to risk traveling, but he needed to double-check anyway. Finally, Bato tossed the letter onto his desk with a small level of disgust. 

"If I ever meet the men talking about my Neice like that, I will not be held responsible for my actions. And what is all of this about her being betrothed?"

Hakoda barely glanced up from the sea charts in front of him.

"Get in line, Old Man." He muttered softly, then louder, "I'm not sure, but do you remember the necklace Kya wore?" He asked. He felt more than saw Bato nod, as the man was leaning over his maps next to him. 

"I vaguely remember it being some sort of ceremonial thing from Kanna's youth in the North. might have something to do with it." He shrugged.

Bato snorted.

"It's probably a blessing they think she's betrothed. Can you imagine the number of fights Sokka would be dealing with to keep them from trying to reign in his sister through marriage?" Bato shuddered for dramatic effect, and Hakoda felt the dark thoughts he'd carefully buried resurface. 

"You are not helping." He announced, scowling at the sea chart in front of him. Bato then _helpfully_ took the tempting chart away and gave him a long look.

"Katara will be fine, Chief. She's always had twice the spirit of Kya and Kanna combined, and if the news from home and around the Western Earth Kingdom is to be believed, she's become a _force of nature_. Plus, she has the Avatara on her side, and Mother Tui's blessing on her shoulders." As comfort went, that did help a little, but Hakoda decided that he wanted nothing more than to split skulls and then find his children and _hug_ them.

"Find me a Fire Nation ship." He ordered, waving at his oldest friend. Bato nodded and left without another word.

Hakoda went back to daydreaming about splitting the Northern Chief's skull for the way he'd talked about his daughter.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Aang was becoming both increasingly more excited and increasingly more _annoyed_. There was an idea, a foggy memory in his brain that was trying to surface. He was waiting for it to make a decision either way, but it was the _beginning_ of a plan. Not that he was very good at plans usually, but he thinks that this one would probably be good. It was taking a while to form after all, so it had to be right?

(He chose to ignore that Sokka could come up with perfectly good plans seemingly on the fly, and they usually worked. Sokka was different. It wasn't fair to compare his plan-making skills to everyone else's. Aang had watched the boy practically _devour_ a scroll on the very, _very_ old international trade routes the night before, and then he'd tossed it aside and _regurgitated_ the information almost verbatim. Zuko had checked. Aang's point? It wasn't fair to try and compare _normal_ people to _Sokka_. That fuzzy, _fuzzy_ something tried to pop up again, but vanished like smoke in his mind when he tried to focus. Aang let it be.)

His _slow-going-maybe-a-plan aside_, Aang was sort of enjoying his time in the North. Sort of being the keywords. Things had _changed_. The walkways were different and the dress was different and the people were all different. Sure, he'd remembered that not a lot of women knew how to fight, but he didn't remember the North being quite so . . . repressed. He wasn't even sure if repressed was the right word. Restricted? Maybe that was the word. Whatever it was, it meant people stared when Katara and Zuko practiced combat blatantly in the courtyards, or when Zuko very openly started embroidering fat, abstract dragons on random pieces of clothing while he watched his sister practice her kata. 

(Aang had eagerly traded some of his clothing for temporary water tribe tunics so that Zuko could embroider a whole series of the cute little dragons onto the hem of his Gi. She had somehow scrounged up a whole fit of embroidery tools for him to do so - a kit, Aang found out later, the girl then insisted was _his_. Zuko had looked deeply amused by the whole thing, and spent half of his time embroidering telling Aang loud stories about the things Azula used to bring him to embroider, and half the time taking breaks by nimbly jumping down to spar his sister through the level of whatever kata's she was working on. Aang had noted a fair mixture of people eyeing his new embroidery with either curiosity or disgust, and it made him want to flaunt it even more.) 

Sokka seemed to take an absurd amount of glee in helping baffle and or shock the warriors around them. He did this by helpfully challenging them to a sparing match - sans bending was his only rule, because fair was fair - and beating them, then turning right around and getting Katara to spar him. The fact that his dialogue each time was a variation of 'This time! This time for sure!' only seemed to make people more uncomfortable. Aang found the whole thing hilarious, but he could tell that Arnook was quickly losing his temper. 

(He mostly knew that Arnook was losing his temper because Pakku had taken to being more liberally brutal with him during the lessons. Aang hadn't said anything because he didn't want special treatment, and also because if his found family found out - and boy, had it been hard to swear Zuko to silence - Pakku would be deader than a baby Koala-otter int he middle of a Lion-seal nesting ground. As much as he believed in pacifism and the ability to be good in all people's hearts, he was under no illusions when it came to his new family. He had seen them at their most brutal, and that had been for complete strangers.)

Which lead him to think, again, how quickly he was growing irritated with the North. Between the scrolls, they'd 'borrowed with permission,' from the archives and the lessons, and all the extra practice, Aang didn't feel like he needed to learn from Pakku. Especially when Katara was a much better instructor, and was much less likely to _very-much-on-purpose_ try to bruise him with icy attacks. Then, of course, there was the views on women and the _comments_ continuously muttered to him through-out the day.

_"Avatar Aang, can't you **reign in** your female companions?"_

_"Avatar Aang, were you aware that the Southern Girl is **sparing **with her **brother** in the east courtyard?"_

_"How much longer will you let your companion act so . . . **unseemingly**?"_

And hundreds of other variations. If it weren't for the very quiet, very real slow and insidious rebellion they'd started, Aang would have snapped by now. As it was, he got through the day by thinking of the whole situation as the _biggest_ and _best_ prank ever. None of thew stuffy old and young men around them knew just how many young girls had been drawn in by the sweet, sweet promise of _self-defense_ that Katara was offering anyone that looked at her twice. None of them had yet caught on to the seemingly random bouts of selective amnesia in the female population. 

(But then, considering how much attention they paid to their women anyway, that was hardly surprising.)

Katara had even started teaching the benders how to do basic combat with their bending, _just in case_. That had, _surprisingly_, been the hardest roadblock to push over, but as soon as Katara _vividly_ and _emphatically_ started describing the _slow-creeping-terror_ of black snow falling around your home, and the heat of ash on her skin, she had gotten a few to listen. Those few had helped convince others. It probably helped that Princess Yue, despite not being a bender, would practice the kata's anyway, as _exercise_.

By the fourth week, Zuko and Azula had taken to arguing political policies that were enacted while he was away. Loudly. In public. Around as many young women as they could possibly scandalize. Aang wasn't even sure if some of them were real policies or made-up ones, because some of them didn't sound like something any Fire Nation citizen, even one heavily propaganda-brainwashed, would agree with or accept lying down. He said nothing, because it hurt nothing to let them spew out false information to a people that had been trying to beat them down from the moment they arrived.

Everything was going great.

Which of course, meant everything would go wrong. 

(Still, they'd had almost a month of injury-free Zuko, and really, Aang would take what they could get. At least things going wrong now mean there was no chance of the reckless former prince charging into things pre-injured. Plus, Dumpling and Noodle were now nearly full-grown, and had started spitting firey-acid. Aang really couldn't ask for better _Zuko protection_ than a _winged-apex-predator-who-spit-firey-acid_ that thought his most trouble-prone companion was its _mother_. Azula seemed to agree, if the way she kept tossing additional on-fire snacks at the creature was anything to go by.)

Things started, as they usually do, with Aang laughing. He should probably work on that. They were practicing, the night before Yue's birthday, not in their secret garden, but in a hidden courtyard near diner time, and Aang was showing Katara the particular foot twist he'd learned that morning. Katara had muttered something scathing under her breath, and Aang had _laughed_. A little too loud, and a little too long, and then he'd gone to show her again. 

"So, _this_ is the reason why it's impossible for our guards to track your movements after our lessons." Pakku's voice rang out, and Aang had stilled. 

Not because he particularly cared if the Master caught him teaching Katara, but because everyone else cared if Pakku kept teaching him. After all, as long as half of Pakku's attention was on Aang, it was off of their other activities. Cursing his big, laughing mouth, Aang turned on his heel and waved sheepishly at Pakku - and oh look, Uncle was with the man. Uncle at least, looked quietly amused. He'd been pretending not to know what they were _doing_, after all, and Aang was briefly sorry that this might strain Group Uncle's friendship with the Waterbender. 

"Well, Katara is a _bender_, and my _companion_. She _has_ to know how to defend herself." He shrugged, going for innocent nonchalance. 

Pakku's left eye started to twitch and Aang tried not to sigh and deflate. 

"One would think the Avatar, of all people, would _respect our customs_." He hissed. Aang blinked at him in confusion and tilted his head. 

"But I have been?" He offered. Everyone stilled and looked at him, and Aang wondered what he'd missed. 

"How, exactly," Pakku growled at him, "is _this_ respecting our customs?" He flung a hand out to indicated Katara, still stance-ready to move through the kata, looking defiant.

Aang had thought that was fairly obvious, but then he remembered that not everyone present was an Airbender.

"Because I didn't make you teach her? Because I've been teaching her out of the way, and haven't been flaunting it to your court?" Aang offered, two easy reasons off the top of his head, his own wide, wide eyes flickering to his friends. 

"After all, you said that your customs dictated that you couldn't teach her. You never said anything about _me_ not teaching her." He shrugged. 

Sokka had that look on his face, the one he got when he wanted to poke holes in someone else's logic, but Zuko slapped him on the arm and shook his head. Pakku seethed some more, looking increasingly purple in the face. Aang didn't think that was healthy, but before he could point that out, Pakku started speaking. 

"Ah yes, because somehow teaching your Southern friend how to bend in front of our Princess doesn't translate to going against our customs!"

_Because it didn't?_ Aang thought but didn't say, but his thoughts must have been louder than he intended because Pakku looked at them like they were slime underneath his boots.

"I certainly hope that you have enjoyed your lesson then, Avatar Aang, because I will not teach such a _disrespectful_ boy how to further _degrade_ my people's wishes."

That kind of hurt. Aang knew in theory that the North wouldn't like it if they found out what he and his people were doing, but at the same time, they were doing something equally as wrong in denying their people the right to self-defense. What was degrading or disrespectful about that. Uncle looked stormy, and opened his mouth to say something, when his eyes landed on something behind Aang. His mouth snapped shut and his face shut down, and while Pakku marched away and Aang tried to figure out why life was so complicated, a low, angry sound started building behind him. 

"**_That is the last straw,_**" Katara growled, but it almost wasn't quiet Katara's voice, and Aang realized that things could be so much worse. 

(He knew, in the way he'd been taught to know, that Yue was a creature he should be careful of, because her link to a deity was very direct. He had become aware, the longer he watched Yue and Zuko orbit around each other, like two sides of the same coin, that Zuko was someone else he was very lucky he hadn't accidentally set a Spirit Taking on. He should have known, then, that, of course, Katara would be someone he should have been careful of from the start. Her own Spirit Blessing had simply been slower in making itself known, entirely dependant, as with La and all things, on her force of will to withstand a tide.)

Katara was rushing past him like a tsunami towards land. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally got this fully updated, with notes on the next chapter scribbled down. Hoping to get to work on that in a timely manner, but I'm trying to take things slow.


	19. The Consequence of Prayers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Status: 100% Complete
> 
> Alright, just in case anyone missed it, the previous chapter has been fully, officially updated! Thus far, I'm doing a marvelous job kicking writers-block's ass, AND managing my issues! Ha! Take that adulthood! Again, so sorry for the wait with all of this, but thank you for the comments and the kindness and the reviews! You're all wonderful, and I appreciate you.  
Because I had several people ask for ages:  
Zuko - 13  
Sokka - 15  
Katara - 14  
Aang - 12  
Azula - soon to be 11  
I only really messed with the timeline in terms of Zuko and Azula . . . and well, everything else I did to comply with plot?  
(Does Yue only being 16 via the end of this chapter count as messing with her age?)  
Anyway! Thanks again, and I hope you like it, let me know if there are major grammatical errors?

Katara was _furious_.

(There was a push, _push_, **push** in her mind.)

Katara wasn’t _just_ furious though.

(She could feel La - as she always could - shifting beneath her feet, hundreds and hundreds of _leagues_ of power. All of that power was pushing her to act, pushing her to _show them what she was_.)

Katara was both furious and _hurt_. Furious and _offended_. Furious and _so many other things_, in so many other ways. For once, she didn’t _fight_ the push to _move_ and _be_ and _act_. There was no more room for _kindness_ here. Pakku and all the men like him had been given enough chances. That he thought he could _dictate_ anything to them, to _her_, to _Aang_ — She caught up to him just inside the dining hall, and she _spoke_.

(She spoke with a voice that was both hers and _not_, more powerful than she ever managed on her own, because she was human, and the echo of her voice was very _inhuman_.)

“I _challenge_ you, Pakku son of Nuuku.”

He turned to sneer at her and froze, and he was suddenly watching her in a way that he _should_ have been from the start. _Warily_, like she was an animal close to snapping.

“_You_ are just a girl. Go back to the _healing huts._” He finally scoffed.

Katara had read up on enough Northern culture to know _exactly_ which buttons to push.

“And _you_ are just a _spineless old man_, bloated with his own _ego_. If you do not accept my challenge, do you accept your _dishonorable_ forfeit?” She shot back.

She could feel others behind her, and her family behind _them_. She could feel Aang, so full of chi _not_ of La’s power that he normally _floated_ over the ice - and now _bounced_ on-top of it nervously. She could feel her brothers. Sokka _strong_ and _unmoving_ where he was holding Zuko back, her brother of blood an _iceberg_ in stormy waves. Zuko was a fire, warm and burning and always lit, and now struggling to come to her - because his _nightmares_ started and ended with _incidentally challenging a Master of bending_. Behind all of them was Azula, her own fire a _brand_ over the ice, a challenge to the element she stood in - and beside her —

_Yue_. Yue, who was a constant _pull_. Pulling at the anger, trying to temper the rage, trying to direct Katara’s emotional tides. Most days, Katara hadn’t minded the Princess directing her. The North was _her_ domain, after all - but today, Katara pushed away from Yue’s calming pull and allowed herself to _be_.

(She should have done this from the _beginning_. She’s been _itching_ to show this man why she is anything _but_ a helpless girl-child.)

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, little girl,” Pakku growled back, and Katara _smiled_.

(It was a _smile_ that said very plainly that _he_ was a coward stalling for time. It was a _smile_ that said she knew _exactly_ what she was doing, and he should be _worried about that_. It was a _smile_ that, as _all_ good smiles did, said many things. Azula was the best of teachers in this regard.)

“Do you accept my challenge?” She growled again.

Pakku took a stance, and that was _all_ the response she needed. She waited only long enough for the few stragglers around them to come to their senses and rush behind tables. Then she _moved_. Pakku was good - hardly surprising, because he was a _master_ \- but Katara had been fighting and adapting for months before they arrived, and adapting to _him_ was no different. He started the battle trying to trap her in a small space with him, a wall of water flowing around them. Katara reached for it and _pulled_, planted her feet and twisted, then _pushed_ and the water was _shards of ice_, streaming headlong towards Pakku.

Even as he shifted and reached for the water to evaporate it, Katara was moving again, dancing with the ice beneath them, pulling it back to liquid form. She asked and it answered, striking towards him like living hands reaching. Pakku twisted and shifted back, fought to take control of the water that had _willingly_ risen to dance with her.

(It didn’t want to _go_. He hadn’t _asked_.)

A heartbeat of silence, each of them weighing the other up. The water and ice stilled around them, as if waiting for the next directive, the next request to _move_. Pakku was _looking_ at her now, and Katara thought it was a pity such a strong bender was only _just_ starting to use his eyes. Katara had never had that problem. La pushed in her mind, and Katara bent to him, because _this_ was a thing to be furious about, and she'd never had a problem keeping step with La's fury.

_They danced._

_.........._

He couldn’t breathe.

(_Father_ stood above him and smiled a _smile_ that was all wrong.)

There was air in the room and everyone else seemed to be fine, but _Zuko couldn’t breathe_.

(Father _reached_ for him and his words were soft, but _all wrong_.)

Zuko watched Katara dance with ice and water and movement, so much in her element that she matched the man dancing against her.

(Father’s hands were _harsh_ and _burning_, and the message he was sending was _clear_.)

Sokka’s repressing hands slid over his chest and tugged him back, restraining him, because Zuko was _waiting_ to be given a chance to jump in if needed.

(The message was the same as it always was. _Know your place._)

Zuko took a shaky breath because Sokka was asking him to, and he sounded worried, and Sokka didn’t need to be more worried than he already was about his baby sister. A sharp, burning warmth, and Azula was suddenly holding his hand, watching the Waterbenders dance against each other with a faint smile on her lips and a sharpness to her shoulders. Zuko squeezed her hand and tried hard to focus on _breathing_ and _staying still_, and watching Katara. If he missed the moment when everyone else decided _she_ needed to _know her place_, the moment when he would need to watch her back, he would _never_ forgive himself.

“_What_ is going on?” Uncle asked, and his voice was more soothing than the firm hand Sokka had over the back of his neck. More soothing than the soft grip Yue had in his coat. More soothing than Aang’s worried glances over his thin shoulders.

(Azula’s presence wasn’t so much _soothing_ as it was a _foundation_ to lean against. She was - _always had been_ \- his foundation, steady and unchanging, and _he_ had been the shield that stood between her and the people that didn’t _understand_ her. That had always been their dynamic, and he didn’t ever see that changing.)

“_Formerly_-Master Pakku found me teaching Katara some of the steps I learned, and he kind of . . . Well, he said some _unkind_ things. Katara - she didn’t react well.” Aang chirped, bouncing a little more on his toes and anxiously turning back to the fight still going, and _oh_, look at that, _they were trying to sink each-other into the ice. _

(Zuko had to practice breathing _all over again_, because he’d once heard that ice can _burn_ if left against the skin too long, could damage nerves and _freeze off entire limbs_.)

“It’s going to be _alright_, Cousin,” Yue whispered, suddenly hovering impossibly closer, one hand on Azula’s shoulder, the other still gripping his coat. “You’ll see.”

Zuko was trying _very_ hard to believe her.

“He has gone too far now,” Uncle muttered, but Zuko couldn’t pay anymore attention.

Katara was tossing her heavy parka aside, and her hair had come loose. He couldn’t see her mother’s necklace. _Formerly-Master Pakku_ was tossing aside his own parka, looking both _affronted_ and _reluctantly impressed_. Katara moved and the pillars behind Pakku shifted and fell, melting into water so quickly that the man barely had enough time to lift a hand and by extension a wall of ice. They were striking at each other again in the very next instant. Katara’s water whips snapping out and turning to ice at the last second. Pakku’s waves of water and ice spinning uselessly around Katara, who never seemed to stop _moving_.

In the very back of Zuko’s mind, where he wasn’t _numb with panic_, he was so very _proud_ that Katara was piecing together second-hand information and using it to hold her own against a man that resembled some of the more _ornery_ Royal Instructors Zuko used to have. It felt like the dance should have gone on forever, but as a distant portion of his mind knew it would, it soon _ended_. It ended with Katara miscalculating how many waves he would send at her, losing her footing, and only rolling up in time to be trapped, one of her hands pinned, at the same time that Pakku forgot that he _shouldn’t be standing still._

The old man was up to his waist in ice, and one hand was trapped against his chest. It was a _draw_. There was a stretched silence in the Hall. Zuko was itching to move, to get to Katara and make sure no one could take offense on Pakku’s behalf, and then _Formerly-Master Pakku_ spoke.

“Why do _you_ have _my_ engagement necklace?” The old man asked, his eyes trained on something that glimmered and sparkled on the ice, a meter away from him.

Katara’s response to the question summed up the rest of theirs quite well.

“_What?_”

..........

Turns out _Lady Kanna_, Sokka and Katara’s Gran-Gran, had once _come_ from the North. She’d fled it when the man she was supposed to marry wouldn’t listen, and her people were content to keep their heads buried in the snow. Zuko liked Gran-Gran more and _more_, because he would have done the same thing if he’d been in her shoes.

(Even loyal to his people, nothing would have convinced him he wanted to marry another person simply because he was _ordered_ to. He’d had an example of what such a marriage looked like, and he wanted _no part_ in it.)

Katara had snatched back her necklace and glared at the old man, and said a very _Katara_ thing.

“I can see her _point_.” Pakku had looked at her but he _hadn’t_ scowled, something _old_ in his eyes and his shoulders drooping with every second he stared, first at her and then at Sokka.

“I have been something of a _fool_, haven’t I?” Soft words that were almost lost in the sounds of the Hall being put back together.

Katara hadn’t bothered answering, sending the man another glare before she slipped her necklace back on and ran a finger over the carving, as she tended to when thinking of _home_.

“I have the _right_ to learn what Aang - the _Avatar_, whom I am _sworn to protect by Tui’s will_ \- teaches me. You will _not_ continue to stand in my way.” She announced instead, and her eyes, sharp and blue flickered over the damage they’d done to the Hall with something like _intense satisfaction_. Chief Arnook had sputtered at that, started to say something, and Pakku had held up a staying hand, studying Katara intently.

“That duel is the first time in _fifteen years_ that I have had such a challenge. You, a woman from the South, put up more of a fight than my own students tend to, and all your abilities are self-taught - or given to you by others.” He paused, seemingly rolling his next words around before he spoke them, slowly, “As a Southerner, you _aren’t_ bound by my cultural beliefs - and if I remember right, your father is the War Chief of the South. I would be honored if you would allow me to help hone your abilities.” It was an effective olive-pear branch, and had the added benefit of shocking the whole hall into silence.

“Are you _only_ offering because of my connection to Kanna?” Katara barked back, looking ready to fight all over again.

“No. I am offering for all the reasons I gave.” Pakku responded, looking _tired_.

(Katara tended to have that effect on people.)

Zuko gave the man a long _look_, but couldn’t see any deceit in him, and Sokka shifted forward until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with his sister, his own ice-blue eyes sharp. After several minutes of intense contemplation, Sokka shocked them all by flashing a goofy smile and nudging his sister slightly.

“Hey, even if he’s _lying_, you still get some _real instruction_, and that’s what you wanted, right?” He asked loudly, and Katara glared at her brother _appropriately_.

Before they could say any more, Aang interrupted them, looking pensive.

“Maybe we should just . . . Switch instructors? _You_ can have Formerly-Master Pakku, and _I’ll_ take _Mistress Yugoda!_” He sounded excited by the end, bouncing in a way that wasn’t anxiety related.

(They all ignored the way Pakku’s face pinched at the idea of the Avatar learning _healing_, but he didn’t say anything, and in the spirit of _not understanding what is happening_, the rest of the Hall was quiet too.)

They all elected to eat in their rooms rather than the hall, because Katara looked tired and Zuko still felt twitchy, and Aang had some sort of idea he wanted to speak to them about. Yue came with them, because she was as much a part of their group now as anyone had a right to be. Zuko very notably refused to look at Katara as they left, and rebuffed her attempt at talking to him with trembling hands.

..........

“Let me get this straight,” Sokka started slowly, rubbing a hand over his head and hoping the slow-building-Aang-shaped headache would go away. “You want to leave a couple days after Yue’s birthday, which is in three days, because you have some vague, crazy memory of water-benders in the Earth Kingdom?” He finished, looking up to see if the plan still made sense to Aang.

Aang was all _happy smiles_, and _nods_, and ‘_isn’t it a great idea_,’ and Sokka was trying to figure out how to _politely_ tell him that the idea of _Waterbenders_ in the Earth Kingdom was as crazy as the idea of _Airbenders_ in the _Fire Nation_.

“Aang . . . Are you _sure_ about that?” Katara asked, and suddenly, thankfully, Sokka didn’t have to be the one to_ say it_.

(He also no longer had to try and convince _Katara_ that Aang’s idea was a _bad one_. His baby sister tended to side with the Avatar just because Sokka generally _didn’t_.)

“_Yeah!_ It’ll be great, plus, _you’re_ already so good, you should _only_ need three days of study with _Formerly_-Master Pakku, and we still have the _scrolls!_ Yue said we could keep them!” He beamed a goofy, innocent smile and Sokka sighed, shaking his head.

Aang was sometimes_ too naive_, for being an all-powerful creature capable of communicating with _spirits_ \- and who happened to be a hundred and twelve odd years. Zuko stirred from where he’d fallen face-first onto one of the leftover rigs by the fire pit, Dumpling laying on his back and Azula sitting at his side, adding small braids into his unbound, long-ish hair. He'd collapsed there after walking into the room, and the general sense of '_this is where I die,_' had increased to levels that _worried_ Sokka slightly. 

(His battle-brother still refused to _speak_ to Katara, and might still refuse to speak to her until he'd gotten over his _own_ demons enough to _shout appropriately_. The fact that he hadn't yet was even _more_ concerning than the fire bender staking a claim on the rug, and his insane baby-sister choosing to help him fortify it by simply existing next to him.)

“It _is_ actually possible that there are Waterbenders in the Earth Kingdom.” Muffled, damning words.

Sokka contemplated that his battle-brother should have kept his _big mouth shut_ as he drooped sadly into his corner of the sofa.

“_Why_ are you encouraging him?” He whined to the room at large, and Yue shifted on the opposite end of the couch, laughing at him.

“What harm would it do to _check?_ Aang has a point —he and Katara don’t need a lot of instruction now. They have the _basics_, and each other to lean on, and all of the _thoughtfully donated_ scrolls from my people's archives.” She _smiled_, and Sokka found himself unwittingly agreeing with her.

(He’d found himself doing that a lot in the last four weeks. Every _smile_, every _comment_ that was _just sharp enough_ to cut but_ just subtle enough_ that people didn’t notice - he was beginning to think that he was simply _attracted_ to dangerous things. Yue was, after all, like a very sharp, _very pretty blade_. You just wanted to unleash her on your enemies and see what happened.)

Pulling himself out of very confusing, very _not-good-for-his-heart_ thoughts, Sokka forced his eyes back to Azula and Zuko, because they were _safe_ to watch most days. Zuko’s face was still very much pressed into the rug, and Azula was still very much adding intricate braids into his hair, and the Former Fire Prince was still very much moping and having _issues_. If it weren't for the _smile_ on Azula's face, Sokka might have made a trek into the _occupied territory of the rug_ and tried to help Zuko through his issues to the _shouting portion_ of being better. As it _was_. 

(There was a rare, soft smile on her face, one that usually appeared cold when directed at other people. When the Fire Nation Princess was looking at her brother like _that_, it was possessive and warm. Sokka was still having a hard time wrapping his head around their dynamics, but it was good to see the kid looking relaxed for once, so he didn’t try _too_ hard.)

Myong, the _attendant_ \- that was the wrong word. There was a different word wasn't there? - that usually shadowed Azula everywhere, suddenly slipped into the room and bowed over clasped hands. She stayed like that for several minutes until Azula looked up, the picture of lazy boredom with the exception of that _smile_ as she added _another_ braid to her brother’s hair.

“Northern scouting ships just arrived back, with a missive from further outposts on the ice-fields.” The calm, soft woman started, drawing everyone’s attention, “There is a _fleet_ of Fire Nation ships headed this way.” The room at large froze, and Zuko slowly pushed himself up and moved until he was sitting with his shoulder pressed against Azula’s.

“An _army?_” Azula asked, and Sokka knew he wasn’t imagining it when she sounded excited, “_Really_, how _unexpected_ of Father.” Her small face scrunched in thought, and so did Zuko’s, while Sokka was up and pacing before he realized it. An army full of the ships that had been chasing them over the last few months was bad. Sure, they had a whole Kingdom - or was it considered a city? - of Waterbenders, but only fifty percent and change knew how to bend combatively! 

(Black snow, falling _softly_. It painted odd patterns over his gloves and Katar's skin, where it melted and turned into grey smudges. Katara, so much younger then, had looked at him with fear, and his first thought had been that the _Spirits_ must be _angry_. Until he heard the War Horns.)

“Do your spies know what my father plans, Miss Myong?” Yue asked, soft and low.

The attendant - there was another _word_ for her, Sokka just couldn’t remember what it _was_ \- shook her head slowly. Aang looked _worried_ now, nibbling on his bottom lip as he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and perched there, bouncing the slightest bit.

(Tuula and Mikua, the only other girls his sister's age, had perched on a snowdrift, peeking over the fields of falling black snow, towards where the warriors were running and the black snow was still falling. They had smiled at him mischievously and suggested getting closer. Sokka, the Chief's son, had told them no, and they'd run off anyway. Tuula hadn't ever smiled that way again, and he wouldn't either, if he'd had to watch Katara be burned alive.)

“Why would they be coming _here _though?” He asked, eyes wide with thoughts he apparently _really_ didn’t like, if the anxiety on his face was anything to go by.

“_This_ isn’t Father.” Azula cut in, her face still scrunched in thought, head tilted towards her brother.

Zuko looked just as thoughtful, his eyes narrowed at a no-where point on the floor in front of them, but he was nodding.

“Even for how _out of control_ Lala says he is, all of his attention was focused on the _Capital_ and his _immediate holdings_. He wasn’t even going to War Meetings any more. This kind of strike is too . . . Reckless, to sudden. It might be Spring, but the waters here are still impossibly cold, and littered with plenty of ice to stall even the best ships.” Zuko chimed in absently.

(Sokka gathered the memories of Black Snow, of people disappearing, of burials and sadness and Katara screaming for their father, and he shoved them into a box inside his mind. Now was not the time. As long as he kept saying that, the memories would stay away. _Now is not the time_. _Now is not the time_. _**Now is not the time now is not the time**_-)

Azula nodded slowly, then stood in that delicate-yet-graceful way she tended to.

“Come on. We need to go see what the Chief intends to do with this information.”

Sokka followed, feeling numb, and tried to pretend there wasn't Black Snow falling in his mind.

..........

Chief Arnook wouldn’t speak with them. He wouldn’t even _confirm_ that there were ships coming in. The only reason any of them knew it was _true_ was because of how cagey he got about the whole thing. Insisting that they didn't need to worry about it, and more that after the spectacle in the Dining Hall, he should have them on house arrest. He tried to make Yue go to her rooms when they pestered him too much, because he didn't want her being '_further influenced by them._' She acted _just_ as cagey as he had over the ships, like her rooms _didn’t exist_. Katara helpfully offered her one of the guest suites in _their_ rooms, because they couldn't have the Princess _sleeping in the halls_.

(From the look on his face, it was the first time she’d ever argued with him _in public_, and from the very _angry-confused-out-of-his-depth _way he looked at them, he blamed the Avatar and his companions for it. The _verbally_ started blaming them for it.)

Yue _smiled_ at his accusations and walked away. She spent that night, and consequently, the next two, in their rooms, sharing a bed with Katara. Sokka had moved to Zuko and Aang's bed with a shrug, and everyone pretended like this had _always_ been the way it was.

* * *

They were _still_ hosting Yue’s birthday party, as if there wasn’t an _army_ of Fire Nation ships heading for them. Three days of trying to badger the man for information had born _nothing_. Yue was exasperated by the whole affair, but even more exasperated by the fact that her father was _still_ trying to marry her off to _Hahn_.

(Hahn was only interested in her for the title he would hold if he married her, and more, because she was the 'perfect paragon of a young woman.' He spoke about himself the few times she was forced to interact with him, and any question he directed at her somehow related to him or the position he would one day hold _because_ of her. She was beginning to think that Sokka, who held an actual interest in her as a person, had _spoiled_ her, because now she expected it from everyone.)

She had the ice spirits that made their homes in the palace following the men of both families. Anytime it looked like they were trying to sign a contract or make an agreement over it, their job was to _destroy_ whatever was happening, and send Yue a message.

(She knew that soon, there would a _confrontation_ over the ice spirits, but she was _looking forward to it_. If being Katara and Azula’s friend had taught her anything in the last odd month-and-a-half, it was that she was _stronger_ than she’d always believed, and fully capable of choosing her own destiny within her people. If her father didn’t like it . . . Well, Yue knew how to _sail now_ \- Sokka had stolen a boat and showed her - and she had a whole kingdom _sisters_ that were just as eager to be more as she was.)

One of them had danced over her skin just minutes before, while her handmaidens were finishing her hair, the faint lines of the creature she could _sense_ but never quite _see_ atwitter with amusement. Smiling at the slow creep of ice over her skin, and ignoring the wide-eyed look of the girl behind her, Yue stood and gathered the deep-blue parka she’d chosen to wear for the day, over slightly more purple robes.

(If it was the same shade of blue that all of Katara and Sokka’s things had started out, and then been _replaced_ with over the last month - well, Yue wasn’t about to point out the subtle messages to those that were too _dumb_ to see them.)

She didn’t want to go through with the celebration, but her father was insistent. He was probably going to try and announce her engagement to Hahn. Yue started composing the speech she intended to make if her father tried to go that route, and amused herself with the idea of disavowing her father’s ‘_throne._’ The ice spirit stayed, settling over one shoulder companionably, and Yue found herself _wondering_ at the spirits. They’d been more active the last several days. More _touchy_. More willing to walk up to her and whisper secrets from the other side of the kingdom.

Something was coming, she could tell. She wasn’t sure _what_ it was, but there was an anticipation in her veins to _see it through_. She arrived at the Avatar’s suite at the same time she had every day for the last month, and walked in as she pleased. Aang was, predictably, awake and sitting in one of the wide windows, frowning at the city below. She approached and quietly sat next to him, felt the spirit slip from her shoulders and slink away.

(The spirits were so very cautious around Aang. She wondered what the _lesson_ in that was.)

“Things have _changed_ here,” Aang announced, in that abrupt way he tended to. Yue settled next to him to listen. “They didn’t use to be so . . . _wide_ and _tall_, and _far away_. The North was always beautiful, always _secular_, but I don’t remember it always being so _cold_.”

The boy that was _not_ a boy seemed to struggle with his words then, and finally gave up, twisting until he was pressed against the legs she’d drawn up and bent in front of her. Yue let him have the comfort he needed, because he _needed it_. Aang had good days and bad days, she'd come to learn. Days where everything was _fine_ and _fun_ and _normal_ \- and then there were the days like today, where the boy was steeped in conflicting memories, floundering for familiar footing.

“Who did you come here to meet?” Yue asked, instead of the dozens of other things she could have.

Aang brightened like she knew he would, and he began to _talk_. He spoke of age-old friends that had shown him their streets and shared their homes. Friends that had greeted him kindly no matter how many months passed. Aang painted pictures with his words of a young boy and girl, though it was the boy he’d befriended first, who were wild and strong and so very brave. Some of the little things he described, the little _ticks_ that made up his friend's personality, stirred memories in Yue's mind.

(An old, old man, who’d been scowling at her father, turned to smile in _amusement_ at her. His eyes were the bluest-blue, deep and unyielding, with so many secrets they might have been slices of La’s domain.)

Aang spoke about how the boy, his oldest friend, had shown him how to dive for Hermit-Clams in the frigid waters. He spoke of night-time escapades involving a Polar Bear-Goose and her young. Aang spoke of the boy that had been his friend the way some men recounted the way they’d met their wives. 

“You liked him as more than a friend?” Yue asked softly.

Aang stopped talking to stare out over the city some more, before he spoke.

“_Kuraka_ is the first person I ever looked at and thought - _that’s_ the type of person I like. But it didn’t start with his looks, you know? It was his - his _personality._” He shrugged, leaning against her legs and fidgeting some more. “I was still trying to figure out _what_ I liked when the Monks . . . I _hadn’t_ — the Airbenders saw love as _love_. Kuraka was the first time I saw myself loving a personality — a _person_. I know now, because I had months after that to look and question, and I’ve had months _since_ waking up to do the same, that I _like_ all _kinds_ of people, that gender doesn’t really matter to me — but Kuraka — was the _first?_” Yue felt like her heart was in her throat.

(Deep, deep eyes that had known many things in their life.)

She reached out to tug on his arm until he was looking at her.

(_Elder Kuraka_ smiled as he lifted her up and spun her around, and promised they would get into _mischief_ while her father wasn’t looking - because _all_ Princess needed to know how to give their father’s _heart attacks._)

“He’s still alive,” Yue said softly. She’d never seen hope look so _battered_ before Aang turned his full attention to her. “Come.”

_Some_ good, at least, would come from her birthday.

* * *

Kuraka son of Atkanu had lived many years - exactly a hundred and fourteen of them - but he had witnessed only _two_ miracles in all his life. The first was when young Princess Yue was saved by the grace of Tui and by the _Prayers_ of the people. The second was when he’d heard the Avatar had returned and he went to see - only to find the face of his old, long thought _dead_ friend sitting at the Head table. Charkua had nearly had an episode when she'd seen him, clutching his hand like a lifeline in a storm.

(Wild, uncontrolled laughter, as forceful as the gale wind the boy had ridden down on moments before. Aang’s eyes had been alight with _mischief_ when he held up the Polar Bear-Goose cub, but Kuraka’s heart had been beating with fear-excitement-exasperation. _Everyone_ knew you couldn't _raise_ a Polar Bear-Goose cub.)

Aang hadn’t recognized him, or Charuka - these many years his wife, the mother of their children - but that was to be expected. They had aged, as was natural in a world imbalanced.

(The long-lived had long since started dying off, the spirit-magic of the world that allowed men and women to live _hundred of years_ dying with the Avatar. Kuraka had been expecting his time to come soon. Maybe, with the return of the Bridge, he would get to live a little longer, and see what happened to the world he loved.)

He’d been planning on approaching the boy, but hadn’t quite figured out _how_ \- and before he knew it, it was a month since Aang had breezed back into his life, just like he used to so many years before. He’d witnessed the scene in the Hall, with the young girl from the South - and been so very proud. He _remembered_ Kanna. She had been a good child, a friend to one of his granddaughters. He’d mourned her the same way everyone else had, but always hoped she _lived_, alive and well, and _doing as she pleased_.

(He and Charuka had been _fighting_ for the women of their tribe to have _more say_ since they were _children_, and seeing Kanna’s granddaughter smack around _Pakku son of Nuuku_ had been _delicious_.)

Now, he stared out at La’s waters, contemplating the threat that their Chief wanted to _pretend_ wasn’t a threat. The Army slipping towards them was a problem. One he hoped they were equipped to handle - after all, they hadn’t seen real battle in nearly a hundred years. There had been skirmishes, yes, and the occasional Fire Nation ship that they sank, but that wasn’t true battle. They weren’t as hardened as the children that had come to these Halls with the Avatar, looking for help and teachers and finding only scorn and bigotry. It was a sad day when you could safely point to a _child_ that had more life-experience than ones-self, but Kuraka could.

(One only had to look Former Prince Zuko in the eye to see that much. He wasn’t actually sure how much the boy saw out of the other one.)

“Elder Kuraka?” Princess Yue’s voice - he’d recognize it anywhere. His son’s first granddaughter had been the Princess’s mother. He turned with a smile, because he always had a smile for the girl that _saw too much_ and held _too heavy a burden_, but he froze when he caught sight of the slight boy _bouncing nervously_ next to her.

“Kuraka son of Atkanu?” The boy asked.

(It was very reminiscent of the first time they’d met.)

“_Aang_ of the Southern Air Temple.” He greeted softly.

(It was with weary amusement that he found his old friend was still a _complete crybaby_.) 

* * *

This would work. Zhao was sure this would work. His plan was full proof! He stood in front of the table where his plan was scattered purposefully across it, tracing and retracing their route determinedly. All he needed to do was kill the spirit of the moon, and the Waterbenders would be helpless. Powerless. The Avatar would be down one more weapon, and one less ally.

(The parts of him that remembered the waves laughing and the eyes that watched from the deep shuddered over the idea of what the Ocean might do to the man that killed the Moon. He ignored those parts with the ease of someone that had stopped hearing them ages ago.)

“So very close.” He whispered, stroking a finger down the hazy depiction of the Northern capital.

It was over a hundred years old, because no one from the Fire Nation had been into the North for a hundred years. It was the best that Zhao could find, though. It wouldn’t matter. By the time he was done, the whole place would be on fire, and Zhao would be a hero. Soon.

(The spirits that watched him agreed. Soon, Zhao would get what was coming to him. These were the same ones that remembered the Western air temple, and men just like Zhao. When the time came, they would not be kind.)

* * *

The closer it got to evening, the more _fuzzy_ Yue’s head became. She went through the motions, guided by Katara and occasionally Azula, who seemed to realize that something was wrong, even when she said there _wasn’t _anything wrong. Katara caught her arm in a steely grip when Yue listed to one side while sitting down at the High Table.

“I’m _fine_.” She whispered again, and the lie tasted bittersweet.

Katara’s look clearly proclaimed that she believed her just as much as she had the _last_ few times, and they settled in their seats at the High Table. Today she sat between Katara and Sokka again, Zuko and Azula to Sokka’s left. With the exception to Aang’s absence - he hadn’t left Kuraka’s side since she’d _reintroduced_ them, even now sat between the Elder and his wife, chatting a mile a minute with the old couple - it was almost the exact seating they’d taken the first night, weeks before.

“You want some juice?” Sokka asked, looking at her worriedly from her other side.

Yue didn’t have the energy or the _heart_ to snap at him, and instead let him pour her some juice instead of the wine the attendants _wanted_ to serve her. She was grateful for the decision, because the crisp coolness of the juice made her feel marginally better while the rest of the Hall tried to settle. Iroh wasn’t at dinner - neither was Myong. The two had looked decidedly _displeased_ when the Chief had refused to share what was happening with them, and they’d disappeared to wherever it was her people had hidden the Fire Nation Princesses ship. They were likely trying to figure out how to help while also keeping their charges _safe_.

(Keeping Zuko safe, she had surmised, was something of a challenge, because Agni's chosen tended to leap before he looked. Yue could very much believe this after the shouting match the boy had had with Katara after the sparring match with Pakku. The two had made up, of course, but not without Zuko shouting and stomping and glaring appropriately for some time. She was told this was healthy behavior for him in the beginning, but she was still trying to see it.)

When her father marched in with Hahn and his family trailing after, Yue huffed in irritation and hoped violently that they all picked up on the color she was _wearing_ and _her choice_ of seating. Her father scowled at the seat she should be sitting in, then frowned at her in disappointment and called the Hall to order. The drums stopped shortly while her father stood, proud and tall, and smiling like he wasn’t about to disregard her own wishes.

“My people! We come together tonight to celebrate the birth of my daughter, Princess Yue.” He motioned to her, but she remained seated, sipping delicately at her juice and pretending to not have noticed.

(Her head was _pounding_, despite the fact the drums had stopped.)

There was a flutter of yellow and orange, and Yue turned just enough to watch Aang finish scrambling into place beside Katara, smiling sheepishly at her father.

“Princess Yue is now _sixteen! _” Her father declared, and the Hall erupted into happy applause, “Which means she is now of _marriageable age_. After much deliberation these many weeks, _I have decided_ that she will wed —” Katara made a small sound of outrage next to her, which her father ignored just as well as he’d ignored all of _Yue’s_ sounds of outrage over the past month, "_Hahn son of Hibuta_!”

There was another roar of _applause_, and Yue stood before she’d processed what she was doing.

The hall fell into silence, either from the impropriety, or from the _look_ on her face.

“I haven’t _agreed_ to marry him.” She announced, cold and flat, and trying to ignore the _thrum_ behind her eyes that felt all wrong, “And I do not _want_ to.” She finished.

Her father looked baffled, and then enraged.

“Yue. You speak out of turn—” He started, and she lifted her chin, speaking over him before he could get into one of his speeches about _duty_ and _honor_.

“I speak _exactly_ in turn. It’s _my life_ and _my body_, and _I_ will choose who both of those things are _given to_.” She declared, her glare flickering to Hahn briefly. “I _do not_ choose to give them to _him_.”

Arnook looked ready to explode, and the pounding in her head felt like it should be _in the room_, and the whole room froze, time slowing to a crawl. People were looking at her in horror. They were looking at her like they were seeing a ghost. Katara made a sound, and Yue looked down, slowly, to find her friends looking up at her with wide, worried eyes.

“Yue?” Katara asked, and it was as if from a distance and through a heavy fog. She _blinked_ and—

She was on the floor. When had she laid down? There was glowing light above her, and she’d recognize it as healing waters with her eyes closed. She blinked again—

She was being _carried_, Sokka’s face was above her, and from the movement around them, she thought they were running, but she couldn’t tell where too. There was a burning, living warmth in front of them, and she turned her head to see, _blinking_—

She was cold and her _head_ hurt terribly. Yugoda was above her, saying something softly. Her father was next to the old woman, and across from her father, Aang and Katara were squished together over her. The angle looked odd, like they were leaning over her, but her bed was against a wall. How could they be leaning over her? She blinked—

There was a woman - no, _not a woman_. A spirit. There was a spirit in front of her, and she was _beautiful and terrible_. She stood tall, heads and shoulders over Yue, so much so that she was stooped over oddly in front of her. Her face was oddly eel-newt-like like, oval and flat, with six, flaring stalks with frills along the boarders. She had scales, ranging from pale blue to silver. She also had shoulders _far to small_ for her _massive head_, and one, enormous eye, wide open and staring _directly_ into Yue’s soul.

This creature could and would see everything, she felt. She was oddly alright with that. Her robes were an odd mixture of fur and starlight, all silvery and shimmery, and Yue suddenly found herself dipping her head low in _acknowledgment_. She _knew_ that eye. It had watched her through her whole life, _waxing_ and _waning_, blind to the issues of the world but all-knowing. This was Mother Tui. Seeing her felt like being _welcomed home_.

**My daughter. **The spirit whispered, and Yue tried to repress the well of tears in her eyes.

Inhuman, ill-proportioned, _four-fingered hands_ drew her into an awkward hug. It was like being greeted by the cool kiss of the sea breeze, like letting the waters wash over her boots just to feel the connection to something larger than herself.

“_Mother._” She whispered back. Tui pulled away just enough to carefully rub at Yue’s cheeks with one of her odd, rubbery fingers.

**No tears now. What follows will be hard enough.** Tui ordered, and Yue nodded. She had always followed her Mother’s orders. **Good girl.** Yue was shuffled onto a plush stool that came from nowhere, and Tui settled in front of her, a long, scaled tail sweeping forward to wrap around them.

**You won’t remember the day I claimed you as my daughter, so I will tell you the truth of the tail - not that rubbish your people speak of.** Tui started, folding her small hands in front of her and looking at Yue, **You were so fearfully small, Daughter. So very weak. A stray brush of ill intent, and Yama’s minions would have whisked you away to the Between. When your people, my people, put you into the ancient waters, where my first gifts to them swim - I knew you would die unless I intervened.**

Another long, rubbery finger trailed over Yue’s cheek.

**I had _never_ before chosen a human child to be _mine_, but I knew it could be done - my brother had, so many years before, I forget when exactly. Regardless - I chose you, not simply because you were weak and they were praying for it, but because I could see in you a _strength_, a _greatness_. **A wealth of sadness entered the deity's voice, for all that she had been happy just seconds before. **The _Prayers_ complicated my work. You were not old enough to be _willing_, nor were you strong enough to take the _burden_. For years your people have prayed over you, for your good health, and because their Prayers tainted my initial blessing, you lived on only through my will and their _Prayers_. **

Yue tried to understand what her Mother was hinting at, tried to reason through why she was there, in what could only be a Spirit Vision - or perhaps a visit to the Between? A rubbery hand with blunted claws closed over both of Yue's and she looked up. She saw truth and sorrow in her Mother's great eye, and knew this was a burden the deity had been carrying for sixteen long years. 

**You are grown now, and can make the choice. They haven't prayed for you, because they believe all is as it should be. The gift that has kept you alive faded this night, Daughter, and I can finally bless you _properly_, but you have a choice. You are _my_ Daughter. If you die, you will come with me, to the Expanse from which I trod over this world, and you will do great things as a spirit.** Yue found herself baffled by this idea. _Become_ a spirit? Leave her people to follow in her Mother's wake? She was so confused - and she wished Sokka was there to help her puzzle over it. The fact that the deity spoke purposefully in half-truths was _not_ helping to clear things.

(Azula will _never_ believe her, when Yue tells her of this vision.)

Tui chuckled, and it was both soft and loud. 

**_Or_, Daughter mine, I embue you in truth, and you will be my _vassal_ on the Mortal plain, much as your Ember-hearted _cousin_ is Agni's chosen. Unlike my brother's people, the Vassalage will only descend from your bloodline - a result of my magics keeping you alive as long as they did, as answer to a _Prayer_ rather than a true blessing.** Yue thought about that, staring at the only Mother she'd ever really known. Her mortal Mother had died when she was too young to recount, but Tui . . . Tui's light had always been there, her secret strength.

"I can't leave my people, Mother. There's still a lot that needs to be changed and done and put into motion." She whispered, thinking of her tribal sisters, hungry for _more_ and begging for it from their Southern Cousin. Thinking of her Father, trying to _force_ her into a marriage she didn't want, simply because he was her father and knew best. Thinking of the Fire Nation men and women, even now slipping towards her people with intent to do _harm_.

Tui looked impossibly pleased, running a rubbery hand over her cheek, wide, huge eye glimmering with spirit-magic.

**Then I suppose we should show the Avatar the way, shouldn't we? **The diety whispered, no more clear then than she had been in the last . . . however long Yue had been there. Yue only nodded, because she wasn't quite sure what her Mother meant, but trusted her. A low table suddenly appeared, on it soft looking cakes Yue hazily remembered from her youth, ones she hadn't had in some time, since they'd run out of the provisions and inclination to go looking for them. Tui somehow settled at the table and fit, and Yue joined her at the impromptu tea party. 

(Because _really_, when one was invited to tea by one's Deity Spirit, the _only_ appropriate answer was to sit down and drink the tea.)

Yue hoped that Aang found them soon.


	20. The Blessed Rise (Part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo Boy, has this one been a roller coaster. I wanted this to be one chapter, but no one else shared that sentiment, so here's part one. 'Season one' is almost over! Probably like, two more chapters, and we'll be moving on to 'Season two,' and saying goodbye to some characters. Sorry, but trust me guys, it'll be great. Probably.  
To everyone that's reviewed, thanks so much! Your comments have been amazing! I'm going to try to respond to them, but I'm probably not going to get to every single one - in that case, it has nothing to do with me not caring for a comment, just me trying not to bog myself down with responding to everything. Regardless, I love and appreciate every one of you, so thanks!

Zuko had been feeling weird for most of the day - an itch of awareness on his shoulders that felt wrong, _wrong_, **wrong**. He hadn’t been able to peg it down though, not in truth — he’d bee slightly distracted, first with tracking down where Aang had gone, then with awkwardly escorting Yue back to their suite when he found her and Aang with some older Northern warrior that Aang was _blubbering_ all over.

(Zuko had nearly drawn his swords and started shouting, until he realized that Aang’s blubbering was _happy_ blubbering, and then he’d just been confused.)

As a result of this, he’d started twitching awkwardly, which made Yue laugh.

(Her laugh was sharp ice over his spine and cool, reflected light on his face. It made him want to drop his guard and laugh with her. They were two people whose inner light, inner everything, reflected off of each other, in the way that Agni shone on Tui, and both of them were complete only when facing the other.)

Zuko had twitched for entirely different reasons then, dragging his eyes away from Yue’s too-knowing ones and offered to walk back with her, since Aang was both busy, and could probably take care of himself. The Avatar had also looked so sad-happy-broken, Zuko hadn't been willing to interrupt what was clearly some kind of reunion.

(He was a banished Prince, in hostile territory. The Northern people already disliked him - if he was seen as being too _friendly_ with their Princess, he knew exactly how they would respond.)

Yue had wobbled the slightest bit one the way, looking briefly distracted, before she forced a gentle smile and brushed off his questions. Zuko had taken at her words —

(_I’m fine, Zuko. Really you worry too much._)

And shouted that he didn’t worry_ too much_, he worried _just enough_, before he marched on ahead of her and held the door. Sokka and Katara were up, and apparently he’d just missed Uncle, mysteriously disappearing with Myong.Dumpling had tackled him in greeting, and Azula had lazily twitched her fingers in his direction, from where she was letting Katara brush her hair on the couch. He had pushed the strange wobble in Yue’s step and the look on her face aside until —

(_I’m fine_-)

Zuko knew distantly that Katara was hovering over the other girl, and he was content to sit back and let Katara handle it, because he knew when to keep his mouth shut about girls not telling the truth about how they felt. He was an older brother, and had spent the last five - or was it _six?_ \- months with Katara, who was as little sister as sisters could get. Then Arnook was speaking and disrespecting his own daughter right there - and it was the War Room meeting all over again, except with less fire and armor - and Azula was tensing up next to him, her breath _too sharp_. Zuko had looked up to see what Lala was looking at, to find Yue standing —

(Speaking out. _Oh_. Why would she do that? Didn’t she know what _happened_ to those that spoke out?)

But there was something wrong. Her hair was . . . Fading. From the roots down, a slow bleed of soft, deep chocolate was coloring itself in.

(_I’m fine_ — Tui’s light fading — the moon, turning it’s face away, turning black. Tui could not reflect light if she didn’t receive any. _She was not fine_.)

Then she fainted. Zuko had felt his heart drop, jumping to his feet.

(But not quickly enough. Thankfully, Sokka _was_. The Southern warrior had jumped over just in time to catch Yue’s head before it cracked against the ice.)

Katara jumped over as well, water already up and flowing around her hands, glowing faintly in the way it tended to, concentration in the light of her face. Aang bent more water from the ice around them, and joined her, checking Yue's head while Katara checked her body. They both turned confused eyes to Yugoda, who’d come running from the crowds. The older woman had taken one look at the bleary-eyed princess and lifted a trembling hand to her lips.

“The Spirit Oasis. _Now! _” She snapped.

Sokka reacted before the warriors around them could, lifting Yue up carefully and turning with purpose. Their eyes connected and Zuko could feel the dull thud of his pulse in his throat. Without a word, Zuko ran, shouting for people to _move now_, lead the way determinedly. He let out a sharp whistle and telling gesture, and Dumpling, who’d been running next to him, leaped into the air and flew ahead.

(People tended to avoid her at all costs, after she’d ‘_accidentally_’ spit up acid on the boots of someone who’d been irritating her.)

Zuko ran and his heart became a drum in his chest and all the while his brain focused on the itch of knowing against his mind, and the fear that made his limbs fluid and his feet solid.

(Something was wrong with Yue. Yue, whose laughter was soft and sharp all in one, who looked at him with a knowing he didn’t understand. Yue, who always faced him fully when speaking, seemed to glow with something other. Who felt like all the missing pieces to himself. Calm where he was jittery, understanding when he was confused.)

For the first time since they’d gotten to the North, he was _afraid_ instead of _angry_.

(Afraid of how this night might end.)

* * *

Aang was pacing, close to the spring but far enough away that Master Yugoda couldn’t bark at him to ‘sit still.’ He was pacing and worrying and watching, because Yugoda couldn’t wake Yue up, and Arnook had already been banished to the western bridge of the Oasis.

(Arnook was furious. Kept saying that Tui was showing her disfavor for them _corrupting_ his daughter against him, but Aang was the Avatar and had a bigger in with the spirits, and kept very loudly saying that there was no way that could be happening. He wasn’t sure how many of them were listening.)

Katara was sitting, stoic and watchful, next to where Yue floated while Yugoda fussed, seemingly out of ideas. Zuko had taken to pacing the length of the eastern bridge, looking twitchy. Sokka stood just in front of that bridge, scowling at nothing, and Azula stood between the two bridges, scowling at the _spring_.

(Zuko had been the first to be banished away from Yue. He was, apparently, too filled with anxiety even when he was _trying_ to sit still.)

“Ask the magic fish.” Azula suddenly ordered.

Aang turned to her in confusion, to find she was staring at him.

“What?” He asked dumbly.

Azula gave him a droll, _artificially_ bored look and rolled her eyes heavily.

“You’re the _Avatar_, right? Ask the magic fish if they can help.” She ordered again, flicking her fingers at the fish, lazily circling each other in the pond.

(The fish were, he suddenly noticed, keeping a distance between themselves and Yue’s floating limbs.)

Aang had never heard the fish talk, not like Azula claimed they did, but she was right. He _was_ the Avatar.

(And according to Zuko, ‘magic,’ was probably synonymous with ‘spirit,’ because his little sister apparently _didn’t_ believe spirits were real, so if the fish were speaking, the only thing they could be to her was magic.)

Aang was moving towards the spring before he’d contemplated doing so, sitting cross-legged across from where Yue floated, studying the fish in front of him. Weirdly enough, he felt as if they were staring, which was. Fine. Fish staring comprehensively was totally fine. Especially if they really were some sort of minor spirits left to watch over the North.

(He’d laughed when Yue shared that their Shaman thought the fish were the _vessels_ of Tui and La. It took very special conditions for spirits - especially Deity spirits - to possess a vessel. Yue had apparently thought it was funny too, because she’d laughed just as loud as he did.)

“Alright. I know it’s a long shot - but — on the off-chance that you’re minor spirits appointed to this station, I need to understand what’s going on. Can you help?” He asked, feeling only briefly silly for talking to fish.

He’d done much sillier things in his life.

(Maybe, if Yue woke up, he’d tell her about the time when he was seven, and Kuzon of Gai Pai’s older brother convinced him that their pig-chicken was Kuzon, trapped as an animal until Aang did the most convoluted dance wearing a loin-cloth and — well, it was embarrassing to think about, but he’d tell Yue. When she was better.)

The fish didn’t answer, which was, well. That was probably also fine.

(Not fine. That was _not fine_. Aang would like his Avatar-ness to please work now.)

He was just opening his mouth in a panic to start rambling at the fish about _why_ they should totally respond when. There was a flash and a pulling-pushing in his mind and he was suddenly not sitting by the spring. He was standing in a foggy soup.

“Oh boy.” He squeaked, spinning around carefully.

The fog was milky-thick and more than slightly ominous. Aang took a deep breath and scrounged up the bravery he’d been working on trying to build.

(It was harder without his found family nearby, there if he needed them. Aang had always been strongest when he had a strong network of people — but Uncle had told him that such a thing was only natural, because he was only twelve and shouldn’t be expected to take on the world alone.)

Something big and fluid looking moved slowly in the fog, circling him once before it disappeared. Aang froze and waited for it to come back. He almost called out to it, but Monk Gyatso’s advice from years past was ringing in his head.

‘_If you ever unexpectedly find yourself drawn into the spirit world, do not call out to shadows. They’ll have power over you - one must always wait for the shadows to speak first._’

Aang bit his lip and tried not to twiddle his fingers, because showing any more nerves than he had already would be trouble. The shadow came sliding back, circling him almost lazily, a large fluid something in the milky fog that was shortly joined by another. He isn’t sure how long they circled him or how long he stood there twitching, trying to keep his mouth shut.

_Avatar._

A whisper over his skin, their acknowledgment of him.

_Avatar. Aang. Avatar Aang - follow._

They whispered, and the fog parted, and Aang stared. As spirits went, he’d seen stranger. Still. Two giant,_ Koi-like_ spirits were circling him in the fading fog. They moved like they were swimming through the air. They were only Koi-_like_ because while they had the general shape and body-structure of Koi, they had four eyes and four pincher arms on their underbelly’s, sort of like lobster-clams or urchin-crabs.

_Follow._

They ordered. Aang followed, carefully picking his way after the silver-white one. The black one swam lazily through the air, just behind him. Time was _weird_ in the Spirit Plain. Aang knew this, from his teachings, but experiencing it - _again_, he reminded himself, thoughts flickering to _Roku_ and _Cresent Island_ and the nightmare of being taken over by something else - was disconcerting.

They wandered over frost-dusted grasses, into and out of a bog, and then out onto an icy, cavernous expanse. Aang was very careful to keep his mouth shut, no matter how many times he opened it to ramble, because _Spirits_, and finally, a hazy sort of place started to manifest. An icy cliff with space carved out of it, and at a table -

(Yue looked placid and peaceful, her hair once again that startling moon-glow white of Tui’s great eye. Aang nearly bolted towards her and stopped himself at the last second.)

When the guides finally drifted away from him abruptly, Tui looked up from her tea-cup and smiled an odd sort of smile at him. Aang hurried the last few steps and tackled Yue into a hug.

**Welcome, Avatar.** Tui laughed-growled, watching him.

(Looking into him. Her eye saw everything, wide-open and aware, and Aang took a deep breath, slowly breaking eye-contact with her. It was dangerous to look at Spirits like Tui too long.)

“Thank you for showing me the way,” Aang responded, giving Yue one more squeeze for good measure - which she returned with a soft smile - and settling down.

He was bouncing where he sat, now assured that Yue’s Spirit hadn’t been drug away by Yama’s minions. There was an eagerness to understand what was going on, and Yue carefully set her cup down, which seemed to be the que.

“Alright Aang, here’s the situation as I . . . Understand it.” Yue started.

(Aang knew why there was a hesitation there, and suddenly felt a well of sympathy for the Northern Princess. Spirits were hard enough to understand on a regular basis, but this was a Deity. She was naturally going to be more complicated.)

Yue started speaking and Aang felt himself quickly sliding into confusion.

* * *

A horn sounded in the distance. Sokka didn’t need the horn to know what was happening though. Black Snow was falling softly over them, drifting down to them like ashes flaking off a burning log. They painted grey streaks over Katara’s grim face, smeared the white fur lining on Sokka’s parka grey.

“The Fire Nation is here.” He announced helpfully, giving Arnook a pointed _you-should-have-taken-us-serious_ look.

(The look was probably the most unhelpful thing he could have done in that instant, but Sokka was still twitchy from watching Yue fall for no reason. Watching her blearily open blue, blue eyes in confusion and then faint again. Watching her go too pale in cold waters and _not wake up_.)

(He was beginning to regret not telling her she was the prettiest, sharpest girl he'd ever met. He felt like she deserved to hear it from someone that meant it.)

“We should bring Appa here,” Zuko announced, glaring at the sky impressively.

Others gave Zuko a confused look, but Sokka nodded.

“They’ll breach the walls within a couple of hours - we need to avoid letting them trap us on the ground. You or me?” He asked.

Zuko slowly swept a speculative gaze over the warriors gathered around them, the way they were looking at them. His eyes flickered towards Katara, still sitting protectively in front of Yue but her eyes on them.

“You. You’ll have less trouble getting there, and nothing can keep Appa down if he doesn’t want to be.” Zuko muttered, quietly.

Sokka frowned at the warriors around them, but decided that ultimately, yes, Zuko was right. Sokka would have an easier time blending in and rushing around. Also - Azula looked particularly interested in setting something on fire, so the chances of him coming back to a _grievously injured_ battle-brother and furious little sister_(s)_ were slim. Sokka clapped Zuko on the shoulder and booked it out of the Oasis before anyone could try to stop him, tossing up his hood as he went. He didn’t want all the ash getting into his hair.

(It had taken ages before to get the smell out. Days heating up snow morning, noon, and night, and scrubbing _scrubbing_ **scrubbing** until he couldn’t smell ash drifting from nowhere and remember—)

If Sokka moved a little faster, a little harsher to try and run from his own memories, no one would know.

* * *

Tui had taken over explaining at some point, because apparently Yue _was_ doing as terribly as she thought she was. The spirit had just finished explaining everything, in almost exactly the same way she had to Yue. Aang's face was screwed up in intense concentration, and Yue decided the only route left to her here was to sip at her tea and _wait_.

"So she was the opposite of a sacrifice . . . not a life being given to you to _keep_, but one the people wanted to be returned. . . which meant she still belonged to them _physically_, while asking you to _gift_ her with life! But--"

Aang cut himself off and looked at Yue wide-eyed. This was apparently something to be shocked over.

"Oh, but that means her life force would depend on continued prayer for her good health! Continued prayer, all year! Why would they do that? Don't their Shamen remember _anything? _"

Tui gave a helpless, sad shake of her head, and Aang slapped a hand over his bald forehead. Yue stared at the Avatar and delicately cleared her throat.

"What does that mean? In layman's terms?"

Aang blinked at her in more startlement, and then seemed to remember that she was a Spirit-touched Princess from a _repressed_ and _secular_ society.

"Right, so, in the simplest way? By placing you in the Spirit Waters - which here act as a kind of . . . doorway between the mortal realm and the Expanse - what you know as the Spirit Realm - and then collectively praying for your recovery and good health, they were asking Tui to judge you worthy of living, as they had. When this practice was first started it was generally used on people that had been grievously injured by traumatic events, and saved by chance.”

Aang paused to take a long sip of tea, eyes flashing over the cup in furious thought. Yue wondered how old these lessons were.

“As far as I know every case involved was an adult, or at least able to speak for themselves, rather than relying on the voice of the collective people. The spirits or Deities that bless someone the way you _were_ being blessed allowed the spirits in question to keep the Blessed alive and 'claim them.' Only in the most basic sense though, and usually, it involved negotiation between the _Blessed_ and the _Blesser_.” Here, Aang’s face screwed up in either dissatisfaction or confusion, “Something like, grant me life and my people will pray to you, and I’ll serve you for ten years. Because _they_ as a whole approached Tui with a call and she _answered_, and you couldn't speak for yourself, she had to rely on the wishes of the people. Had you been a little older, you might have been able to strike a different bargain than the standard 'prayers in exchange for life,' but as it stands . . . "

Aang must have seen the look of general, hesitant confusion, because he nodded at her sagely.

"Yeah, I know, Spirits are _weird_ \- and really specific. But they have to be. Their realms are highly potent with spirit magic, and they themselves aren't human. I'll see if I can find anything in your archives that explains it better. Anyway! What do I need to do?" This last question he addressed to Tui, who smiled.

(The smile looked something like a grimace, if you squinted.)

**You are the bridge.** Tui announced, like it should have been obvious. Aang blinked at her, then seemed to catch on, nodding eagerly.

“Oh, is that all? Have you - I mean, have you guys already negotiated?” Aang asked, looking suddenly nervous. The way he looked at Yue, she wondered what kind of ‘spirit negotiation,’ horror stories he was remembering.

(Then she wondered if that was actually a thing. Had the Monks ever sat around and regaled their young with the horrors of bad spirit negotiation?)

**I was waiting for you.** Tui whispered, and the table (and the tea) vanished. Yue blinked at them both in startlement.

“What are we doing?” She asked softly, tucking some hair behind her ear.

Aang bounced where he sat, out of nerves or excitement she couldn’t tell, and he shuffled forward on his knees until he was sitting to the left and in between her and Tui.

“We’re negotiating the terms of your Blessing, since you were an infant when one was given to you, and since your people have failed to pray for it again, you finally have the chance to take control of it. Sort of.” Aang shrugged, giving her another of those ‘_I know Spirits have weird rules that don’t translate to human,_’ looks.

(That she could peg exactly when he was thinking such from his expression said something heavy about spirits and everything she’d learned of them in the past . . . However long she’d been in this Plain. When she got out of this, she had a _lot_ to say to their Shaman.)

* * *

Katara growled at the men marching towards them from the new hole they’d made in the path to the Oasis. Behind her, she could hear Appa groaning and thumping his tail, like a good bison. There was the distinctive screech of a King Serval defending its exclusive territory, and then men shouting in pain.Sokka was beyond the new hole in the wall somewhere, fighting alongside Iroh. She hadn’t wanted him to leave her sight, but he’d gone anyway, because Uncle was out there and _they_ had to stay here to defend Aang and Yue and Yugoda - who was fiercely hunched over Yue’s floating form.

(Arnook had been drug away by several generals, but not before he’d ordered the warriors here to watch his daughter and make sure she was brought to safety as soon as the Avatar finished retrieving her and she woke. Katara had found the way he walked away infuriating, but she could only focus on so much at once.)

Right now she was focusing on a familiar figure, slowly emerging from the steam that had occurred when impossible flames had met with stony ice.

“Zhao.” She greeted, smiling a smile that Azula had taught her.

(Azula was hidden to one side of the hole, across from Zuko, both of them standing still and waiting for Zhao’s forces to be adequately distracted. Zuko looked like he was ready to do something impossibly reckless and dumb. Katara figured she’d beat him to it.)

“Last time I saw you, I could have sworn you were _running like a coward._” She spat, before Zhao could speak and monologue.

(Zuko had told them, after Crescent Island, that the man very much tended towards monologues, because he was great and wanted other people to know it.)

Zhao froze, then smiled, looking substantially crazier than he had last time she’d seen him.

“You’re not the brat I was hoping to run into, but you’ll certainly do as a _message_.” Zhao hissed.

Katara felt the slow-building rage of La inside her heart, that push _push_ **push** that accompanied one of her tempers. This was a man that would deserve her rage. Katara moved and stretched in one fluid motion, her claws firmly attached to her hands.

“Why are you always talking?” She taunted.

They started to dance.

* * *

Aang glanced first to Tui, a small smile on his face, where he sat cross-legged and bouncing slightly.

“Alright. Blessed Mother Tui, the Moon-eyed and All-seeing, what do you desire out of a negotiation with Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribes?” Aang chirped, eyes on Tui.

**I wish my Daughter to be my voice amongst my people. Wherever she chooses to go, so too shall my blessing, and with her will be the heart of my tribe.** Tui intoned seriously.

Yue’s eyes widened. She had the sudden image of the Tribe _moving_. Of living off the open waves. Of never going through the same, boring, stagnant routine again. Tui gave her a knowing, loving look.

(She was suddenly reminded of her girlhood dreams. Of stepping onto a boat and ordering it out to sea, and only returning home for the Blessing-days, full of stories of the lands beyond the frozen North. She had not dredged these dreams up since she was ten and _broken_ over the fact that _girls_ weren’t allowed to sail, just like they weren’t allowed to wield weapons.)

Aang blinked at the Deity, then smiled and turned to Yue.

“What do you desire from these negotiations?” Aang intoned.

Yue’s mouth went dry and she had to take a deep breath, thinking furiously. Her father was going to try to use what had just happened against her. He was going to try and paint it as though Tui had disapproved of her speaking out against her role as _duty-bound Princess_. She needed something her father didn’t have.

“I wish my Mother to grant me power, even _minor power_, that I might assure no one stop me from enacting her will,” she said slowly, trying to find the right words for what she wanted, “I also wish that she grant me some sort of sign, that my people know I speak the truth when I return.”

Aang had looked thoughtful while she spoke, but slowly nodded approvingly. Tui leaned back and tilting her large head in thought. Yue tried not to think about how the Deity looked ready to topple over, from all the weight on those too-small shoulders.

**I find my Daughters wishes acceptable.** Tui announced with a happy-sad smile.

* * *

Zuko cursed under his breath and cracked another soldier’s head against the ice, motioning Dumpling to _sit_. The Serval did so with feline glee, pouncing on top of the warm-bodied solider and clawing at their armor, sharpening already sharp claws. He thought he’d heard something crack when the full weight of the winged-feline landed on them, but Zuko figured it was deserved if they were willingly following Zhao.

Katara was battling Zhao. Zuko kept having to swallow his heart, because as much as he’d like to jump in and _help_, there were too many soldiers as back-up, and anyone of them could go for Aang if he wasn’t careful. Azula knocked two guards into frigid waters, and the Northern warriors standing by - who noticed, thankfully - froze the water over them. Zuko had been unsurprised to find that the Northern men fought at a level that was just barely adequate. They were, after all, a secular people that didn't often see combat, whose knowledge of Fire Nation protocol was nearing ninety years old.

(Zuko tried very hard not to be bothered by the probable deaths being dealt out by his sister. He knew, that on a level, they _deserved_ it. He did. But they were - _had been_ \- his people.)

Zuko slipped past the wild Cobra-cat kata the newest guard was using, tripping the soldier up and head-butting them - which. Wasn’t the best idea. _Ouch_. - before he swept the legs out from underneath them. Dumpling skittered around the soldier’s other side and spit acid at them, and they immediately started howling. Zuko turned away quickly.

His eyes landed back on where Katara was battling Zhao and his heart almost gave out. Zhao was_ too close_. He was too close to Katara and his hands were on fire, and Katara hadn’t been trained in how to _fend off that kata set yet_.

Zuko was moving before he’d registered that he would.

* * *

Aang turned to her with energy, bouncing. Yue took a guess as to what she was supposed to say, relying on years of talking down mischievous Ice Spirits.

“I find my Mother’s wishes acceptable.” Yue hoped Aang was the only one that noticed the slight question to her voice.

Aang gave her a brief, subtle nod, and then he clapped his hands once, twice, once, and then three times fast.

“I, the Avatar and Bridge between the Realms, find this negotiation true of intention and word. Let us break and go forth!” He intoned excitedly, holding a hand out to both Tui and Yue, arms spread wide.

Yue blinked at the simplicity of the whole thing, and scooted forward slightly to take an offered hand. Tui did the same across from her, and as soon as they were both touching him, Aang’s smile faded, his eyes taking on an eerie, blue-white glow. Startled, Yue nearly jerked back.

**So it is done.** Aang - _not Aang, that wasn’t Aang’s voice_ \- sighed.

There was a flash of white, and sudden pain, and all Yue knew was cold _cold_ **cold**.

(White - dark - pain. Too many sensations. Yue was drowning, drowning, floating. Around her, there was the sound of shouts and pain and burning. Someone was screaming in rage.)

Yue opened her eyes and _breathed_.


	21. The Blessed Rise (Part two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry don't hate me, but this has been done for. . . a while? I've kind just been sitting on it because there was something bugging me - in fact, something is still bugging me - but I figured if I posted it, I would find whatever was wrong. And I got tired of editing it to death. Also, it's a monster of like, 8K and it was getting too long each time I edited it, so yeah. Here we go!! The end of Book One! Who's excited for TOPH BEI FONG!!!!!  
*Petrodctyle screech of excitement*  
So, unless enough people request it, this will where I continue posting this story. I don't feel like posting the Second Book as a separate fic. I will go ahead and update the general summary of this though, so people know where Book One ends.

The person screaming was an older man in brilliant Fire Nation red. His armor was falling off and his sash was singed. His top-knot was coming undone, his eyes fever-bright with madness. He was trying to bend at Zuko, but his flames were weak and sputtering, and Katara kept splashing him with snow. Zuko would slide himself close, put out the small flames being thrown like treats, deliver several blows, and then dance away, and Katara would pepper the man with icy daggers and an ever twisting surface.

Snow one moment ice the next - the man couldn’t seem to keep his balance. He was shouting . . . something, but Yue could hardly understand it. She could hear the rage, could hear the madness, but the words were still garbled to her. Closer to her, Dumpling crouched protectively over Aang’s slumped form. Further away, Azula was both subjugating enemy combatants, and disarming those that didn’t want to surrender to her.

Sokka stood in the young Princesses flank, keeping a careful eye on the blue flames and those around them. When Azula’s bending started to flare, he would shout a warning, and her Tribe's warriors would all duck aside in time to miss being seared by wild movements and wilder flames. She could make out their Uncle Iroh just beyond, standing in the hole they’d made in the wall, keeping people both out and in by sheer presence and ability in equal measures.

(In her mind there was a push-pull of weight, a knowing that things were different now. Sounds were still muffled but they were becoming clearer.)

Someone had their hands on her shoulders, trying to tug her out of the waters. Yue shoved those hands away and rolled further onto the bank by her own power, breathing deeply through a bought of nausea.

(Something heavier was in her veins, something that burned like crisp ice. She was not the same.)

A mumble of sound above her, those same hands carding through her hair.Yue shifted away from the touch as if it burned. They were touching her like she was _delicate_.

(She was not the same.)

The hands tried to return and Yue rolled away, pushing herself up on arms that felt weak and strong all in one.

(_She was not the same._)

She stood, and turned to the fight still raging - a fight that was taking place in the Spiritual Heart of the Northern Water Tribe. A fight that had only gotten so far because they were unprepared and uninformed. A fight they were only winning because the benders that opposed them had weak flames and were clearly exhausted long before they ever stood up to fight. The two peoples were equal in power and skill - one because of exhaustion and a Deitie's curse, the other because they had withdrawn so far from the world they had only themselves to train against, and there was no way to practice real war.

Yue took a burning, icy breath, and moved forward - she slipped the knife the Avatar’s people had given her into one hand, and with the other, she reached for her Mother’s blessing.

(Yue had never tried dancing before, but she was more than willing to start.)

She twisted a clenched fist, and ice sprung up in a straight line between her and the insane Fire Nation man. There was only a heartbeat of silence, and then Zuko and Katara were both moving, and she was moving with them. Zuko took control of the sputtering fires the man was trying to brandish against them. Katara rounded to Zuko’s left flank and took control of the flailing man’s right hand, trapping it in ice. Yue rounded the trio and trapped his left hand in the same manner.

(Her veins were burning with the effort it took to direct a portion of her Mother’s gift, but she had watched and helped Katara practice enough in the last month that it seemed natural - no matter that it felt like she was trying to lift a boulder.)

Zuko’s swords, edged with brilliant fire, were pressed into the man’s throat before anything more could be done or said, and she and Katara moved as mirror images to restrain his arms and legs completely in ice. Once they were done, Yue felt her legs fold and her lungs burn.

(She had never felt more alive than she did bending. She felt weak and strong and tired and awake all in one.)

Silence. Then sound came rushing into her all too suddenly and Yue had to focus on breathing.

“What in all of Tui’s Light just—”

“Never in all my years has someone been so—”

“_Yue!_ Are you alright?”

“You there! Start removing arms from the defectors and compile them by my Uncle!”

“Oh, man! Did I miss the whole thing?”

“Quiet! All of you quiet!” Yugoda finally shouted and Yue finally lifted her head to see that Katara was now crouching to her left, carefully bending the water out of her Parka and hair. Yugoda sat to her other side, glaring at the rest of the people in the Oasis. With a firm nod, she turned to Yue and soothed hand over her head carefully.

“How do you feel, Princess?” She asked seriously.

(Calm gentle hands, treating her so delicately. Always treating her so delicately.)

“Strong.” Yue breathed, and found that it was true.

Her lungs might feel shaky, her limbs a little weak, but Yue had never felt stronger than she did in that moment. Her Mother’s blessing raged through her veins and her Father’s might pushed at her mind. Yue moved to stand, and Katara helped her get there. Yugoda watched her with wide eyes, and Yue hoped that the woman was seeing the truth in her statement. There was a guttural yell, angry shouting, and they look over in time to watch the manic man from before, whom her people were _releasing_ \- despite Zuko’s loud protests - trying to shake off the Northern warriors.

(They were shoving Zuko. They were shoving him aside like he was nothing, like he hadn’t just fought so hard to keep her and the Avatar and their Oasis safe.)

The man set his arms on fire and struck out, crazed eyes skipping between a bleary-eyed Aang to the Spirit Fish, to Yue, like he couldn’t decide who he wanted to risk suicide for more. Kata, the guard nearest to him, caught on fire before they could try to defend themselves. Katara was already moving next to her. The man lunged towards Aang. The hand still clutching her dagger snapped out before she could think too much about it.

(She saw, in her minds eye, the target dummies she and Sokka and Zuko had made. She saw herself working on throwing that dagger time and time again until she could hit any mark either of the boys directed her to.)

Azula and Zuko were both moving too, slipping into Kata’s too fast for others to keep up. They were trying to put out the sputtering, erratic flames sparking off the man in front of them. Katara flowed into step beside her, arms stretching, claws glittering, and spears of ice racing after the insane Fire Nation soldier.

(Time seemed to slow, and multiple things happened all at once.)

Yue’s dagger struck true, hitting the man in his right thigh and causing his steps to falter. Aang and Dumpling danced to the side with matching yelps, barely dodging the wild flames reaching for them. Azula and Zuko managed to snuff the flames that sparked and snarled, but the jarring of Yue’s dagger combined with Katara’s ice spears also hitting true sent a fiery blast across the Spirit Pool. Another series of rumbles echoed in the distance, the ships beyond still firing at her Tribes home.

(Time sped up then, and though Yue knew it shouldn’t be possible, it was like things happened to quickly to keep track of.)

A searing pain in the back of Yue’s mind, followed by distress.

(_No-mine-ours-they-hurt-them! Hurting-us!_)

Yue caught a glimpse of frayed, seared scales and blood in the water of the pool, and the fish within started spinning around each other faster, energy and power and force all trying to gather at once.

(_Mine-ours-they-hurt-them. **Make them pay!**_)

The Fire Nation man collapsed in front of the pool, bloodied and weak, and watched as wide-eyed as the rest of them as the fish became a singular spirit. They rose like a bizarre mixture of man and fish. It walked on two heavy, scaled legs and had two clawed arms, and two reaching pinchers just below its arms. Its body was heavy and fish-like, with a flailing spiked tail. It eight nightmare-eyes.

(Kui and Fa, and as one being, Kui-Fa, the first Children of La. They who had, so long ago, walked the vast plains of the North and dealt justice in their Father’s name. For some reason, Yue had always assumed that of all the spirits mentioned, this one had been a children’s tale.)

The Spirit reached for the man that had attacked them and swallowed him whole, then turned it’s massive head slowly towards the armada attacking their home.

**We cannot leave the Oasis.** They whispered, turning their head slowly towards Aang. **Without you.**

(Yue’s stomach felt too heavy suddenly. She thought of all the night-time terrors she’d been told about Kui-Fa’s justice and she knew.)

“Wait!” She called, and was surprised when it came out strong.

Kui-Fa turned their attention to her.

“He has not finished all his training. He won’t be the appropriate vessel!” Kui-Fa stared at her—

(Into her and through her. They knew her. She had whispered all her secrets and all her dreams to them for as long as she could remember.)

**There can be no other. La bids us seek justice.** They whispered sadly.

(It was an apology and a decree all in one.)

Aang looked pale, but resigned, his wide grey eyes hardly leaving the spirit above him. The Spirit reached out and touched the boy, and suddenly he was them and they were him, and in the middle of their shimmering body, he floated, a bridge between their post as Guardians and the Mortal world. The steady glow of his tattoo’s had never seemed so ominous before. Zuko looked like he wanted to chase after the Spirit, wanted to try and save his people, but his Uncle was suddenly there to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“They chose their own paths, Nephew. The Captain here has told me that all those who were uneasy with this attempt came in the first landing party and laid down arms as soon as they could. The rest of them would follow Ozai’s dictates to their graves.” He left it unsaid that they had, in fact, done just that.

It was hard to miss the proof of this when a giant, glowing Spirit that was a combination of man-fish-monster was bending the waves over the Fire Nation ships as easily as others splashed in the shallows. They watched from the highest wall, all of them surrounding Zuko, while Kui-Fa did his work, and Aang was forced to be the channel for it.

(The Avatar, as gentle as he was, would likely have nightmares over this for weeks to come. Yue felt her gut twist at it. How was she to feel in this? Glad that her people would not be subject to a siege because the enemy didn’t know when to quit? Or terrible because her soft-heart friend was out there, being forced to channel this Spirit of cold justice?)

In the end, it hardly mattered, because she was merely a Blessed Child of Mother Tui, and Aang was the _Avatar_. It had always been the Avatar’s job to oversee such matters. Appa, with Noodle clutching tightly to his saddle, suddenly flew past them, and several minutes later, the eerie glow of Aang’s tattoo’s began to fade. The Bison was there to catch the Avatar before he fell.

The rest of them could only watch in fascinated horror as a shadow rose from the oceans in the early dawn. A giant head rose from the waves. The face was a terrifying blend of human proportions and fish features, with four giant narrowed eyes. It was followed by a scaled torso that could have been a man or woman’s, all muscled planes and angles, and clawed hands that slapped ships further down into the waves.

When it dove back down again, taking several ships with it, they were given the impression of a large, seal-like body with six fins attached to the human torso. Yue could almost see the light of awed fear in her people’s eyes as they watched the calming waves beyond. She very much doubted that they would continue trying to claim that the ocean belonged to them, as that Spirit could have been nothing but Father La.

“Yue!” Her father’s voice echoed.

Yue turned, and found that Arnook was watching her with wild eyes of his own.

“By the Mother, Yue, why aren’t you in bed?” Arnook shouted.

Yue isn’t sure why she expected anything else. Instead of answering, she turned to the group she’d come to see as more than friends, and tried to smile.

“I think Aang is going to need some calming tea.” She announced.

Iroh was the only one to laugh. She could tell from that alone that it was going to be a long time before she got around to sleeping off her sudden and inexplicable ability to bend.

* * *

By the time everyone had been crammed into the Dining Hall, her father was practically frothing at the mouth in his protective-rage. Despite this, Yue took great care to ensure that she, Katara, and all of the Avatar’s companions get a chance to rest and change into clothing more comfortable and less soot-smelling. Aang was drowsy and sad for most of this pampering.

Zuko was just as sad, though his sadness, as ever, came off as slightly huffy. Azula seemed the least bothered by the day's events - but that was not surprising. What was surprising was her steadfast refusal to call the event spiritual in any way.

“Spirits aren’t real, Yue.” Azula sighed, looking at her like she was a particularly dim child. “That was just your magic fish being slightly more magical than usual.” She continued, rolling expressively-sharp bronze eyes towards the icy ceiling.

Sokka placed a staying hand on Yue’s shoulder before she could argue any more about it. Though he may have simply been touching her just to assure himself she was there.

(She noticed he’d been doing that with all of them. Walking up to his sister or Aang or Zuko and even Azula and simply touching them, his eyes full of old paranoia. Of them all - minus Aang, who’d been drawn into two Spirit-connections in a single day - Sokka seemed the most shaken by everything. Of course, he’d also been the furthest away when the insane man - Zhao, they said his name was - sprung towards Aang.)

“I could really go for some tea.” Aang finally whispered, big grey eyes a little wet and directed at nothing where he’d curled up next to Iroh.

That was how they finally ended up in the Dining Hall with everyone else. By that point, she could feel the tension in the Palace, mounting higher and higher with every passing second. By the time they sat down, she once again ceding her spot to Aang, everyone gathered looked worse for wear.

“My People. While we have suffered much in the last day, we have also been shown that our Father and Mother are with us.” Arnook started, shooting a pointed look to Yue.

(Yue had already decided that she was going to let her Father get some of his issues out of his system before she spoke. She had words that would be heard, and a dream that was finally going to come true.)

“Despite the offense some of us here have dealt to our Deities, they still came to our aid, still defended us against attack. That is why it is with great pleasure that we welcome this new day free of Fire Nation enmity, and thanks to the Avatar, the continued good health of my devoted daughter!”

A cheer went up, and Aang slumped in apparent exhaustion further down the table. He sent them a wide-disbelieving look.

“He’s going to do this now?” Aang whispered loudly.

Yue quirked an eyebrow in response.

“Daughter. Rise and take your place next to me, so that we and our people can celebrate as tradition dictates. With the agreement to unite our family with the bravest of our warriors from today’s battle!”

Yue stayed seated, and instead leaned over the table with fake eagerness.

“Do you mean, Father, that I’m now engaged to Sokka of OrcaSeal?” She asked loudly.

The applause died down, and Sokka choked on his tea next to her. She heard the tell-tale thump of Zuko patting his battle-brothers back roughly.

“Or perhaps to Katara of OrcaSeal?” She continued.

Katara snorted a laugh next to her, trying to cover her wide smile with her mittened hands.

“No? Ah, then Former Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation?” Yue continued, eyes connecting with and staying on her Father’s.

A stretched silence, and then her father was taking a deep, pointed breath.

“Yue. You would think that having already experienced Mother Tui’s wrath when you—” He started.

“_That_ had nothing to do with Mother Tui’s wrath and everything to do with that fact that our Shaman severely misinterpreted the old ritual you used to ‘save,’ me as a baby,” Yue argued simply.

Aang nodded empathically, still looking tiredly into his tea.

“Yeah, Mother Tui was actually really worried about the whole thing, especially since you guys just stopped praying for Yue’s life. It’s a good thing we put her directly in the Spirit Pool, or Yue probably would have died psychically and been forced to follow Tui to the Expanse.” Aang helpfully added.

Sokka’s hand suddenly gripped one of hers and he looked a little pale. She gently pat his hand, and gave him what she hoped was a sincere smile.

“Yes, thank you, Aang. As I was saying. My condition had nothing to do with my Mother’s disapproval and everything to do with the Shaman’s ignorance.”

Arnook sighed and looked tired, and generally gave her the ‘I’m-so-disappointed-in-you,’ look, which Yue ignored very well.

(She was not the same. She had come back stronger. She had come back truly Blessed by her Mother. It helped that she and her Mother had had a long conversation about her values, and what she wanted from Yue. Marrying Hahn was not even in the same vicinity of the list.)

“Yue. It is your duty as my Daughter to marry who I say. I am Chief of the Northern Tribes, and no matter how much favor you hold with the Avatar, it doesn’t mean that you can do as you please.” He stated softly.

He probably thought he was being firm with her. He probably thought he was completely correct. If it weren’t for her Mother’s power in her veins and the push push push of Father La in her mind, she might have let him think so too. But she was Yue the Moon Blessed, Daughter of Tui. She knew her own strength now.

“No.” She said. It was soft and sweet and powerful. It echoed around her and through her people, and all over the ice, the message carried by the Ice Spirits she had played with since she was a child. It would echo in every corner of their Kingdom. 

“No. I am Daughter to Tui. I am the Heart of the North. Where I go, so too does my Mother’s light and my Father’s protection. I am not yours to command, nor will I ever be again. When the Avatar leaves, so too do I.” She intoned, let her Mother’s confidence break into her tone.

(She was not aware, but she was glowing. The moon wasn’t up, but every flicker of light in the room bounced off of her and reflected. Her eyes were pale now, pale and filled with impossible moonlight. She looked ethereal and beautiful and touched entirely by Tui.)

There was a short stretched silence, and Yue finished her tea, then slowly stood.

“I am tired of standing idly on our ever-preserved shores, and doing nothing. If you wish to come with me, man or woman, you may do so, but know that you will be judged. So state I, so it is.” And then she left.

She walked right out of the Dining Hall, right out of the Tribal Address, and no one stopped her. Yue looked out the wide-open windows of the Palace she would shortly be leaving behind, and she smiled.

* * *

It took three more days before they could leave. Iroh, Myong, and Azula had to fight for the right to the soldiers that had surrendered, most of whom the Northern Men were thinking of executing. Zuko was infuriated when he learned this, and for the first time since he’d arrived on Northern shores, he practiced his Kata’s in all their flaming glory. Yue and Azula watched him do so with equal measures of fascinated.

(Yue, because even when she’d seen him bend, he only did little things. Azula because it had been a year and some months since she’d seen her big brother practice, and it was startling to see what time away from Ozai had done for him.)

In this time, Yue and Katara requisitioned a large boat, and a handful of small ones, equipped with a list of names that would be leaving with Yue, and the knowledge that her Father’s people weren’t just going to give her what she wanted. In-between looking for boats and collecting people, she helped to fix bridges and walls. Her fixes weren’t perfect, but they would hold enough until someone more skilled could get to fixing them.

Katara also showed her how to braid her hair in the Sothern Warrior styles, since no Northern woman had ever needed warriors braids. They played with a variety of bead types and braid patterns, until Yue was sure she could do some of them in her sleep.

(She even got to practice some of them on Sokka, who seemed both exasperated and pleased to be drug into the whole thing.)

Myong was central in Yue’s fast-tracked ability to read maps and chart the stars. Zuko somehow stole enough supplies away for her and everyone leaving with her to last months. He refused to state how he got them, and Yue decided not to press until they were away from the North. She and her small fleet - if it could even be called that - would be traveling with Aang and the rest until they reached Earth Kingdom waters, where they would then be splitting up.

Yue intended to go further South so that she and her people could work on fortifying some of the Southern tribes that needed it. They would then be traveling towards Ba Sing Se, where the Southern Chief and his men were rumored to be fighting alongside the Earth Kingdom to keep the central hub of the Kingdom safe. 

She was excited. Leaving the North and traveling had been her dream for as long as she could remember. She may have been traveling straight towards a war-zone, but that in no way lessened her excitement. Now, it was hours yet till they were set to depart, not yet sunrise. She stood on the piers that Kuraka’s grandsons - who were all, along with their Grandfather and Grandmother coming with her - had formed.

Tui shone above her. La’s presence was steady and flowing beneath her. For the first time in her life, Yue understood the connection that most benders claimed to have with both. She was not the strongest of benders to have ever been born, but she didn’t need to be. 

(Hadn’t expected to wake as a bender at all. Tui’s Blessing was a Knowing in her gut and in her mind. It had been cropping up at random ever since she woke. She knew to step aside a minute before a child came barreling down a corridor. She knew what argument her Father and the elders would try to use next, so always knew what to say. She knew how each of her friends was feeling, and the best way to cheer them up.)

No, being able to feel one more connection, even if that connection was weak compared to others, was enough for her.

“Are you ready?” Yue asked the air around her. Katara shifted a little closer, the push of her presence soothing in its own way.

“Yes. I’ve been ready for days. We need to find Aang an Earthbending Master.” The other girl responded, sharp blue eyes on the oceans beyond.

Yue nodded, glimmering eyes focusing on something beyond, her mind whispering with cackling laughter and steely strength.

“You’ll find the right one.” The muttered absently, curiously prodding at the ever-present zing of her Mother’s presence at night. Tui’s only response was laughter that felt like clear-crisp-air, the whisper of secrets secrets secrets.

“I’m sure we will.” Katara returned, a confused amusement to her tone of voice.

Yue smiled like Azula had taught her to smile when she had a secret.

* * *

Pakku surprised them all by showing up as they were leaving. Yugoda was marching in front of him, looking determined. Yue smiled at them both and made sure they found a place on one of the boats, and also that they understood they would be teaching _anyone_ that wanted to learn. Katara took one look at both Water bending masters and sighed deeply.

Yue would say she shared the sentiment, but she was relieved to see that she would have two people familiar and well-versed in teaching for the people that were leaving with her. Most of them - except the female healers and male warriors, in their own respective fields - were untrained. The very first-day Pakku helped teach the female benders how to move waters around the boats, and Yue was in the thick of those lessons.

She found, with great amusement that Aang and Katara had been right in their assessment of Master Pakku. He was something of a hard-case that gave praise sparingly and gave criticism easily. Yue was alright with that - she much preferred his treatment to being treated as if she were delicate.

(And if she threw herself into these lessons so eagerly to ignore the gaping, but unsurprised pain that came with her Father refusing to see them off, that was no one’s business but hers and Tui’s. Yue did not regret leaving, nor did she regret standing up for herself. She only regretted that her Father was so willing to write her off because of it.)

* * *

They were a couple of days out from the North when Zuko stole into Azula’s room on the Fire Nation vessel. He got a sore foot for sneaking up on his sister, but smiled anyway because she didn’t tell him not to do it again. There was already a pot of tea on her low table, and some spiced chili-mangos. Zuko placed his bundles on the table in front of Azula and took his own seat, pouring them tea while Azula stared at the two small packages he’d placed in front of her.

“What is this?” She finally asked, gesturing with a flick of her fingers at the gifts.

“Birthday gifts.” He shrugged, fiddling with his teacup and trying not to twitch under the weight of her gaze. He rushed to explain without her ordering him to. “I missed your last one. I thought I was going to miss this one too.” Another shrug. “I would have sent them but—”

Azula stood before he could finish and padded over to one of the chests along the wall. She dug through it for several minutes before she came up with a wrapped bundle and plopped it down in front of him before she carefully shoved her own tea aside and started unwrapping one of his gifts to her.

When she was done unraveling the stiff rice-paper it had been wrapped in, she stared with a slightly confused expression. Two long, elegant hair sticks in steel stared back at her. The heads of them were carved into a smiling Oni, a small bit red cord wrapped in a complicated way for two finger’s width right below it.

“One of the colonies we traded with, when Uncle and I were still with the Wani, was selling those. That particular Oni apparently watches over the person they’re gifted to. I know you don’t believe in spirits, but you know that I do. They can be used to stab someone in a pinch - I made sure they were sharp enough.” He explained.

Azula blinked first at the hair sticks, then at him, and then she rolled her eyes in a heavily exasperated manner.

“You’re such a Dum Dum.” She sighed - but she did so while unraveling her hair and redoing it in a simple knot, first with one stick then tightening it with the other.

Zuko smiled and carefully pulled apart the pretty red and gold swallow-spider silk his gift had been wrapped in. He blinked in confusion when he found himself looking at a leather and steel bracer of some sort, with what looked like Fire Nation steel needles in them.

“They're poisoned. I can teach you how to throw non-poisoned ones, so you know how to use it.” Azula sniffed, looking down at his secondary gift with more obvious interest.

(Zuko wondered when and how Mai had gotten the chance to show Azula how to throw sharpened needles, then decided he didn't want to worry about it.)

The dagger she was staring at was actually something he’d palmed during the Pirate Ship Incident. The golden pommel of the dagger was carved like a roaring dragon, the cross-guard carved like folding wings. Even the leather grip of the handle had the imprint of scales on it.

“It might look a little gaudy, but it’s functional. I know you don’t really consider weapons as necessary, but sometimes they come in handy. I can show you how to use it - if you want.” He whispered softly.

Azula stared at the dagger for a long time, until finally, she looked at him with so much burning emotion he couldn’t name.

“Of course you’re going to show me how to use it.” She declared, picking up her tea in a way that should have been nonchalant, but was ruined by the way she laid a proprietary hand over the dagger.

Zuko found himself relieved that he’d thought enough about his sister to get her useful gifts, and not the pretty ribbons that Aang had tried to insist on. Azula, after all, wasn’t - and often didn’t understand how to be - a regular little girl.

(But that was alright, because she didn’t have to be a regular little girl to be his baby sister. She just needed to be safe, alive, and not alone with their Father.)

* * *

Appa groaned somewhere abroad the massive, metal Fire Nation ship that was pretending _not_ to be a military vessel, and Sokka couldn’t help but agree with the wordless complaint. He paradoxically wanted to go and stay. Wanted to be in the air, and exactly where he was. As much as he much preferred the company they were keeping now - a mixture of male warriors and budding female warriors that were all determined to prove that they belonged - their culture was still much different.

(Everyone on Team Avatar - plus Azula, who existed in this fuzzy grey space in Sokka’s mind - had been spending equal measures of time on both Azula’s metal-monster-ship and the Northern Boats. Sokka had been getting a lot of different kinds of culture shock.)

It didn’t help that Pakku up and decided to follow Yue instead of her father, so Katara hadn’t succeeded in getting away from the Smarmy Master. Sokka was of the impression that his sister didn’t need any more fine-tuning, _please stop now_, but no one seemed to take him seriously when he shouted this. Except for Zuko, but no one took Zuko seriously when he was shouting words of wisdom either, so really they were in the same boat.

(Ha! _Boat_. Sokka was a genius.)

Presently, he was seated precariously on the rail of Azula’s metal-monster-ship, watching as his battle buddy and his way-scarier baby sister spared. Sokka was trying to determine if Azula was intentionally trying to burn her brother, or if she was just really bad at lowering the intensity of her flames when a too-light figure settled down next to him on one side, and a much heavier, much more feathery figure alighted on the other.

“Have a nice glide?” Sokka asked Aang without looking away from Azula’s sudden grin as she spun way-too-quick on arms that looked too skinny to spin herself around on, and Zuko’s insane limberness as he danced away.

“Yeah, it was very clarifying to just get away for a bit.” Aang chirped, and Sokka was glad to hear that the little guy sounded way better than he had been the last few days.

A soft mewl and a head-butt from his other side had him reaching up to give - a quick glance confirmed - Dumpling the appropriate levels of absent affection that she always demanded.

“That’s really good, Aang,” Sokka affirmed, sending the boy a smile and flinching when Azula - the insane, limber little monster - ducked underneath her brother’s swinging arm, slipped up his back and was somehow swinging to his front and dipping him forwards, then tossing him in Sokka’s direction. Sokka drew up his legs as Zuko rolled to a rough stop next to him, a little concerned.

“You - uh - alright there?” He asked softly.

Zuko glared up at them without any heat and nodded a second before he was flipping himself onto his feet and marching towards Azula.

“Again Lala!” He shouted.

Azula glanced over from where she was doing a handstand, her feet perfectly straight in the air.

“Aren’t you tired of being bruised yet, Zuzu?” She called back blandly.

Sokka and Aang exchanged a knowing look, and right on cue, Zuko leaped towards his sister.

“You wanna go practice your swordsmanship while _I_ practice evading your swordsmanship?” Aang asked, a light-hearted smile on his face.

Sokka couldn’t say no, so he nodded and slipped off the railing, following the Airbender towards the back of the ship, where they were less likely to be interrupted by the royal siblings trying to kill each other and pretending it was sparing.

* * *

Katara and Yue slipped off Appa and onto the Northern Boats just in time to catch Azula leading the way to the lower decks, sneaking past the warriors on rotation with several young women behind her looking determined. The Fire Nation Princess had been teaching the young women how to Sneak for the last three days, having apparently decided that a week as Sea was a week too long, and fallen into extreme boredom.

She’d also caught Zuko’s sister showing the young women how to threaten with a smile alone. There were various stages of success, but Katara’s favorite was probably the woman, only a little older than Yue, who could only smile in the most joyous, chipper way, no matter how the rest of her expression look. Azula had looked disturbed by this smile more than any of them.

(For a young woman that barely understood her own emotions, she was quite adept at manipulating her physical expression, and teaching others to do the same.)

Yue and Katara shared a look, then slipped past the guards and onto the lower deck without waving goodbye to Appa. They caught up to the tail-end of the Sneaking lesson and joined in quietly. Maybe afterward, they’d finally get Azula to sit down and let them play with her hair.

..........

Zuko slipped down the mast of the Command ship of the Northern Boats, heart still thrumming from the jump he’d made from the railing of Azula’s ship to the crossbeams of the mast. He snuck from the top of the central cabin below the mast and rounded to the front deck, then froze.

Azula sat prim and proper, arms loosely folding in front of her as she watched several Water Tribe women across from her sort through various beads in shades of blue. Katara and Yue were doing his sister’s hair, using bone-white beans to decorate it - likely because she’d have threatened to toss the blue ones overboard - and appeared to be having the time of their lives.

Zuko resumed walking, since he’d come looking for his sister when he made the jump, and he wasn’t about to abandon her in a potentially awkward situation. Azula’s sharp eyes flickered to him before he’d even fully entered the circle of light from their torches. Katara noticed him next and got an excited look on her face.

“Doesn’t Azula look amazing! Like a young warrior in the making!” She exclaimed.

Several of the other young women jumped when they turned to see who she was talking to and realized he was slipping into their circle. Zuko gave them all respectful nods, and finally folded himself down next to Azula.

“She does look amazing.” He agreed easily, eying the complicated looking series of plates using tiny, tiny braids and a series of beads that were all carved like claws.

“I think you should do Zuzu’s hair next.” Azula growled.

Zuko smirked at his sister, who was clearly enjoying herself - even if she’d state that she wasn’t - and did bother rejecting the proclamation.

(He recognized that fever-bright look of eagerness in Katara’s eyes. He would not be trying to fight that, thanks.)

* * *

Sokka and Uncle were hustling from the Northern ships to the Fire Nation vessel, arms laden with bundles and wide, manic grins on their faces. Appa looked beyond exasperated when he was called over, but willingly went to let Sokka and Iroh clamber onto his back so they could get back up to the larger metal vessel. Aang watched all of this was riotous laughter.

“I thought you’d be more upset they were using Appa like a ferry.” Zuko grumbled, eyeing the bundles that Iroh and Sokka were settling into the saddle. His current sparring partner, some poor naval officer that hadn’t known what he was getting himself into, was leaning against the railing a little ways down and breathing heavily.

“Not at all - well, not unless Appa minds. Then I’d mind. This just reminds me of my tenth summer!” Aang declared loudly, bouncing where he was very precariously - even for him - balanced.

Zuko’s questioning look and small tilt of his chin was all Aang needed to elaborate.

“Right, so when I was ten-ish I spent a whole year traveling back and forth between the North and South poles! Sometimes I flew, but mostly I traveled by loitering on a trading barge going either way from either way. They had the best stories on the trading barges, and they didn’t mind if I hung around because merchants were less likely to think they were pirates if they had an Air Nomad as a passenger!” Aang sighed, mind racing pack to a time that didn’t feel so long ago to him.

“What kind of stories?” Zuko asked, clearly intrigued, but the adult training partner down the rail suddenly sat up and shook his head.

“Prince Zuko, I think I’m feeling a second wind!” He shouted loudly.

Zuko glanced back at him, then gave Aang an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, maybe tell me some other time? I really need to get this Kata set down.” Aang nodded eagerly and pretended not to see the furious head shaking that the officer was doing.

The stories were funnier when there weren’t any _boring_ adults around to ruin them anyway. Aang would just have to tell him the next time they went camping. Sokka and Iroh eventually found him a couple of hours later, after he’d moved to a small table that Myong had set up for a lunch.

“You’ll never guess what Uncle and I found!” Sokka declared, looking entirely too smug.

“Oh, another lemur!” Aang shouted, excited simply at the prospect of it.

Sokka sent him a confused, bland look and sighed.

“No. Clothing! For all of us!” Sokka declared, pointing an imperious finger skywards.

“Now, I know what you’re going to say. _‘But Sokka, my Gi is a part of my culture!’_ And yes, I am aware of that, however! I managed to find someone that was willing to sew up some designs that were similar in neutral greens and browns! I know it’s not Airbender yellow or orange—” Sokka started, really getting into his ramble now.

“Sokka.” Aang tried, his heart both heavy and light.

“But hear me out! The cut is close enough to your Gi, with a few weird exceptions, and I really think that blending in is going to be our best bet—”

“Sokka,” Aang tried again.

“And we can keep your old Gi! You can wear it anytime we have to lie low for a while, it’s just that with us on the move, the Bison is already conspicuous and—”

“Sokka!” Aang shouted, loudly, and possibly-maybe with a small bit of bending to make it echo.

Sokka stopped talking and jumped back slightly, looking startled. Aang gave him a sheepish smile, then spoke slowly.

“Thank you Sokka. I can’t promise to be happy with having to wear something else, but I understand the necessity behind it, and I appreciate that you worked so hard to find and acquire something to make me comfortable.” Sokka seemed to deflate with relief, blinking at Aang slowly.

“Oh. Well. Alright - glad that didn’t take as much convincing as I thought it would! Hey, do you think Katara is going to take the news well?” He asked, flopping down to start piling some snacks onto a plate. Iroh had already poured them tea, chuckling softly over their exchange.

Aang thought about it seriously for a minute.

“I think you’re going to have to be arguing for a little while, at the very least over your Mother’s necklace.”

Sokka did not look pleased with this prospect, deflating the slightest bit.

“I was afraid of that.”

* * *

Sokka contemplated that probably the best thing about Yue becoming a _rebel queen_ was getting to goof around with her without her father glaring at him. They were, at present, trying to learn some sort of Fire Nation dance, aboard Azula’s vessel. Iroh was leading a music night, and it was a strange combination of Fire Nation and Water Tribe music. Heavy drums and deep sounding wind-instruments, and whatever that weird thing was Zuko was being forced to play.

But Sokka didn’t really care how weird the music was, because Yue was fun to dance with and they had made a game out of how many times they stepped on each other’s toes. All of his good impressions of the girl had only been reaffirmed in the time since they set sail, and he knew that despite his ridiculously huge crush, they were good friends.

(Being good friends with her was way more important than his crush. Especially considering everything she’d already had to put up with recently.)

So instead of concentrating on his crush, he let himself enjoy this moment he’d been given to act like a kid again. They danced - badly - until they were breathless, and when they couldn’t anymore, they sat to the side and watched the Fire Nation officers show them up with perfectly placed footsteps - but still slightly weird dances.

Zuko finally managed to escape the instrument he’d been bullied into playing, and he drug Azula up from where she’d been seated, ignoring Aang’s pestering, for their own dance. Their dance seemed slightly more formal, but they were clearly enjoying themselves as they swung and stepped around the deck. Aang performed a couple of traditional Fire Nation dances from his day and age, awing a couple of people that watched with sad eyes.

(Sokka couldn’t blame them for the sadness. The free and fierce movements looked way more fun than the strictly placed footing from before. Aang even drug Katara up to teach her some of the dances that required two people, and there was a significant difference.)

“Let's try that one!” Yue exclaimed suddenly, dragging him back up and over to Aang.

Sokka knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. It was, overall, a nice break from the stress of the last month or so. At the risk of being sappy - even if it was just to himself - he could admit that he wouldn’t have traded the night of dancing or the way that Yue had smiled at him for anything.

* * *

They would be splitting up soon. Yue found herself trying to squeeze in as much time as possible with the friends she’d made by chance. She practiced martial defense with Sokka and Zuko, and found she was quite adept at the dagger and clubs.

(She traded these lessons to the other girls for silly little favors that kept them all lively and feeling like a community. For the first time, Yue could say she was one part of a whole.)

She traded lessons about emotions and how to tell the difference between them to Azula, in exchange for _more_ defense lessons. Sometimes, at night and under Tui’s watchful eye, in the light of the torches, she would drag Sokka into dances. She watched Katara move with La’s waves, watched Aang listen to Spirits the rest of them weren’t aware of, and basked in the fact that she and Zuko were two sides of the same coin.

(Every morning she stood shoulder to shoulder with Zuko, watching Tui cross one horizon and Agni rise over another. Every night they did the same, watching Agni depart and Tui arrive. Together they basked in the light of their own Deities, though Yue knew that Zuko wasn’t aware it was him Agni smiled down on. The silly boy simply thought he was sharing quiet moments with Yue. She was fine with letting him live in denial.)

The last few days before they separated were the most frustrating, most precious, most memorable for Yue. These were the people that she was sure were going to end the war. These were the children that had shown her how to stand strong for herself. These were the girls and boys she would miss terribly.

(She didn’t say anything though, because war waited for no one, especially not the Avatar.)

* * *

Azula stared up at Myong, who smiled down at her in what might have been understanding. Katara, Aang and Sokka were saying goodbye to the Northern Tribe. Azula was not, because she had already said farewell to Yue the night before, and she didn’t intend to view the inevitable sappiness of Peasant-Boy-Sokka saying goodbye to the Savage Princess.

“You’re going with them, aren’t you Princess?” Myong finally asked, the first to break the silence.

(Azula was internally grateful that she didn't have to be the one to break it.)

Azula shrugged and nodded. Myong’s jaw clenched, but her smile didn’t falter. Uncle blinked over at her from where he stood, apparently also out-waiting the inevitable sappiness.

“I’m not leaving my Dum Dum of a brother alone again. He makes stupid choices.” Like getting caught by Fire Nation soldiers loyal to Ozai, and then introducing his head to the stone ground. “You know what my goals are. I trust you to ensure that when you arrive . . . Wherever it is you’re going, you’ll see them done, and take care of my people while you’re at it.”

Myong nodded slowly, hands clenching in front of her. She bowed, deep and respectful, and exactly as she should. Azula hated it.

“Oh please.” She scoffed, tossing her braid - the one that Yue had insisted on doing for her the night before - over her shoulder. “Stand.” She finished, pretending that her voice didn’t crack over the word.

Myong did so - and then she moved in before Azula could think to retreat and drew her into a warm embrace. Azula felt her muscles lock up, but no pain followed the touch, and she found herself again reminded that Myong was not most adults. Slowly - though she would deny it later - she reached up and returned the embrace, then stepped away quickly.

“Honestly Myong! Try to maintain some professionalism!” She growled, and flounced - _did not run thank you_ \- towards the fluffy beast Zuzu was dumbly fond of.

She felt more than saw Uncle Iroh follow her - and everyone but Zuzu looked surprised to have her tossing up a bag and then jumping up towards the saddle. Zuko was tying her bag down even as Stupid-face-Aang was bouncing excitedly.

“You’re coming with us Azula? This is great! Zuko would have been so upset if he had to say goodbye to you again!” The boy chirped. He was wearing a new set of Gi, thankfully not yellow, but deep brown and soft greens. It was cut similarly, but not exactly as his old pair had been.

Even the Water Tribe siblings were wearing slightly more neutral Earth Kingdom clothing. It was good to see that she, Zuzu and Uncle weren’t the only ones attempting to blend in.

“Princess!” Myong called.

Azula felt her shoulders stiffen and her throat tighten against her will and she wasn’t sure what this feeling was but she _hated it_. She turned angrily to glare down at Myong, but the woman was hoisting a wrapped bundle up into the saddle, again proving that she was surprisingly spry for an apparently retired Military woman.

“Here. Some extra rations, and food the Princess will actually eat.” Myong said softly to Zuko, her eyes looking all odd.

Azula huffed and turned away quickly, jaw clenched as tightly as her fists. A hand, gentle and kind, smoothed over her hair briefly and then was gone. Azula did not look back. She didn’t look back and she didn’t struggle to breathe, and she didn’t watch the waters until Myong and the stupid ship disappeared.

(And even if she did, she would hurt anyone that said otherwise. She would hurt and bruise and rage, and never, ever admit that saying goodbye to Myong - even temporarily - hurt more than knowing that Mother had left without ever looking back at her.)

They moved on - towards the Earth Kingdom, and hopefully, an Earth bending master for Stupid-face-Aang.


	22. The labyrinth in your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to do some serious reorganization for my notes/outline, because Azula had things to say, and didn't like my plans. But that's all sorted, and everything is sunshine-and-stabby now! (Yes, that's a good thing.)  
Very nearly bum-rushed this chapter just so I could skip to the parts I want (Toph-toph-toph-toph-toph...) but then I reminded myself that I needed to be good, so we have a real chapter and not a mismatched monster.

Zuko stared down at the Earth Kingdom Fortress they had already decided they would be passing up. Pakku had briefly talked about the General who ran it, Fong, and Aang had frowned through the explanation, while Iroh had looked into the distance and scowled in thought.

“With all due respect Master Pakku, it doesn’t sound like my companions would be safe with this General Fong.” Aang had eventually cut in, his soft smile disarming for how sincere it was.

Zuko had been internally grateful that Aang had been the one to make the decision not to go, because trying to talk him out of going had he decided to would have been hard. Now, they flew overhead in the early morning and didn’t stop until late evening. They were still some distance away from Omashu, in the foothills to the east of Fong’s Fortress.

(The area looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where from. The last time they were in this area, Zuko was still trying to get used to his place in the scheme of things, and having people around that were more friends than anything else.)

They made camp, and for the first time since the Northern Air Temple, it was just _them_. Well, them plus Azula, who’d taken to flying like she took to everything else.

(She’d gotten bored within a couple of hours and started doing handstands in the saddle, in between telling Zuko about a bizarre dream she’d had about an insect-man with a long twisting body that changed it’s face and told her stories about all the people he’d stolen from. She did the handstands just to see if she could. Zuko’s heart had stuttered each time she spontaneously did so, but she had never fallen out. He was trying not to think about the bizarre creature she described, because it sounded somehow worse than Agni’s neck.)

Now, Katara had claimed the right to making the first meal, and Zuko was helping her to heat up the campfire, while Iroh and Sokka were setting up the bedrolls. Azula was sitting within Zuko’s reach, watching impassively as he handed Katara spices or vegetables. Dumpling and Noodle had flown into the trees with keen eyes, likely to hunt themselves some dinner.

(And in Dumpling’s case, bring something meaty back for her Warm-Roaring-Mom.)

Momo was stealing bits and pieces of the dinner prep, chittering loudly as he ran around the camp. Aang had settled off to the side after he’d helped get all their things off Appa’s back. There was no bedroll for him, being the type that slept most comfortably on one of Appa’s forepaws, and he was well-versed in their routine even after a month and a half that he knew he’d either distract or get in the way too much to be truly helpful. So instead he spoke.

“Maybe we can actually take a look around Omashu this time around! There wasn’t much time last time, with us being in such a rush, but this time I’ll be learning Earth bending, so there _will_ be time, right!” He exclaimed, bouncing on his feet even as he offered several fruits to Appa, who took the snacks with a tired wuff of air.

“How sure are you that Bumi will teach you?” Sokka asked, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Azula tilt her head and quirk her brow as if the thought had crossed her mind as well.

“Of course he will! Bumi is a great friend, and I have no doubts that once I tell him everything that’s happened, he’ll be more than happy to help.” Aang assured, all beaming smiles and innocence.

(Zuko still wasn’t sure how or why the boy was so calm so quickly after the Northern Water Tribe Incident, but he was glad that he wasn’t having nightmares anymore.)

“Just because you’re ‘friends,’ doesn’t mean he’ll teach you.” Azula corrected, looking disinterested as she fiddled with the dagger he’d given her, playing it between her fingers in a motion that looked familiar. (But that he didn’t remember teaching her.)

“Well, no I guess not, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to regardless!” Aang announced, still wildly cheerful as he tossed a few more fruits at Appa, then bounced over to the fire, taking a seat across from them.

Azula grunted, and flipped the dagger around once moe before she idly put it away. There was a furrow of thought between her brows, as if she was trying to remember something.

“Where did you say we’re going again?“ She drawled, fiddling with the white beads that had been woven into her braid.

(The same white beads that Sokka and Katara now wore as well, in place of the blue. Katara had carefully slipped the blue beads away, and told him that their roots wouldn't be forgotten, but that they had to honor who they were now, after everything they had been through. The beads she'd worn before had been the beads of a girl. The ones she and Sokka wore now were those of Warriors.)

Aang leaned forward in excitement, a story in his eyes and his grin screaming ‘wait until I tell you this exciting thing!,’ and Sokka and Uncle settled down into their own places.

“We’re going to Omashu! It’s been a City since forever - or well, maybe not forever, but I wasn’t paying attention when the Monks told us it’s Origins. Anyway, I used to travel there a lot, because I’d made friends with Bumi. It was great! The mail shoots are taller than the buildings, and go all over the city, sometimes even outside of it.” Aang reminisced.

Azula still had a thoughtful frown on her face, and Aang entered into full-on story mode.

“Have I ever told you guys about the time in Hui-Shi Market when—”

(As camping nights went, they’d definitely had worse, and it gave Azula a chance to observe the people they were traveling without the effect of outside forces. The gang relaxed was the gang in their most natural state after all.)

* * *

The crowd roared, and had she been the type of pathetic, delicate flower her parents thought she was, Toph would have cringed. As it was, hearing the roaring chant of the crowd filled her with excitement, made her remember what she loved most about the Rumble.

(The soft scent of spicy ginger and valley flowers, leaning in to whisper scathing things about the fighters.)

Toph threw her fists in the air and cackled, because she’d won again, and she would keep winning. This was her ring. These were her people.

(Their ring. Their people. Their secret. Her parents couldn’t take this from her, no matter what else they took.)

“And the winner is the Blind Bandit!” Xin Fu roared into the already noisy crowd.

Toph barely repressed a snort in the man’s direction. Of _course_ she won. The other competitor hadn’t changed much in the last few years - except the Big Bad Hippo, who’d gotten fatter.None of them were a true challenge to her, not really. It was almost boring.

(Spicy ginger and valley flowers, delicate hands calloused from years of bending rocks and breaking the Earth. Those same hands gently handing her a sweet bun, the roar of the crowd not loud enough to drown out soft words, whispered close. ‘_I don’t know why I let you talk me into sweets at this hour._’)

It was boring, but it was hers, and nothing would take her from this place that was theirs. Not until she was ready. The roar of the crowd followed her into the Earth, where she was surrounded by feelings of comfort-home-blessed-daughter.

(This was something else her parents couldn’t take. Dabogong would always be her Father, her true Father, and that would never change. So long as Toph’s feet were connected to his domain, she would always have him, if she had nothing else.)

* * *

Aang starred at the surface of the water, took a deep breath, and forced himself to walk into it. Katara watched him while pretending that she wasn’t, moving through the flowing forms of her warm-up Katas.

(His nightmares had come back with force the night before.)

Azula was swimming in short circles a little further down, playing with Dumpling - not that she admitted that she was playing with Dumpling. Dumpling _was_ playing with Azula and knew they were playing, because she was a clever-pretty-good-girl.

Sokka and Momo were floating lazily in the water, a little closer, while Zuko was working on a lunch for the whole camp and pretending to be exasperated by Uncles enthusiastic tea-brewing. Appa and Noodle were notably Not Caring About Their Surroundings, and napping half in the water and half on the shore, and all the way on top of foliage that used to be small trees but wasn’t anymore.

Aang took his stance, took a deep breath, and focused on Katara.

“Ready pupil Aang?” She called, a smile quirking her lips.

Aang forced a smile back and slid into the base stance.

“Let’s do this!” He called back, ignoring the glint of light off the water.

(A spark of moonlight against the seas, a hundred ships spread before him like toys. Kui-Fa’s energy surrounds him, controls him, uses him. The ships looked like toys. The-ships-looked-like-toys.)

“We’re working on the Octopus-Angler form, right?” He asked quickly.

Katara nodded back in confirmation, watching him closely.

“Let’s see your stance.” She called, taking up an offensive position.

Aang slipped into the stance she’d taught him right before they split from Yue, shivering over the icy-cool feeling of the river water against his shins.

“Aang, bring your arms closer together - remember to protect your center,” Katara called, sharp blue eyes still watching him.

Aang adjusted his arms slowly until Katara nodded in approval. It was easy to focus on the lesson if he just kept his eyes on Katara, and the next icy dagger she sent flying at him. By the end of the lesson, Katara was laughing softly, and it was the best sound to soothe his fraying nerves.

“You make a fine Octopus-Angler, Pupil Aang,” Katara announced, shortly after he’d managed to sneak a watery tendril past her defense and trip her up.

Aang sent her a goofy smile and shifted stances, pulling the water up around him and doing a dance in the middle of it, finding the challenge of making extra watery limbs move with him another distraction. Sokka turned at Katara’s loud laughter and then shook his head at them.

“Are you going to be done soon?” He called, settling back against the wide, thick leaf he was floating on.

Katara glanced over her shoulder at him and then turned back to quirk a disbelieving brow at Aang.

“Like you’re ready, Mr. Naked?” She smuged back.

Sokka sat up and glared at his sister, and at Aang for laughing.

“Hey, I can be ready in like, two minutes! So can Zuko and Uncle!” He squealed.

Azula suddenly surfaced at the boy’s elbow, hair dripping and brow raised at him. The young Princesses expression twitched only minutely while Sokka floundered and yelped, falling into the water with her presence.

“What about me, Peasant-boy? How fast do you think I could be ready?” She asked, her expression as bland as ever.

Aang could hear Zuko snorting softly under his breath, but then Sokka’s floundering drown out all other sounds, and Aang was relieved when he could start shuffling back towards the riverbank, and the small camp Zuko and Uncle had set up. Zuko’s head was twisted towards the forest beyond them when Aang sat, his profile scrunched in thought.

Iroh was handing him tea, Sokka was still blustering to Azula, and Katara had moved on to her own practices when Zuko stood and made a sound. Dumpling stopped splashing in the water and looked over sharply, then moved towards Zuko’s side in several bounding leaps.

“Sokka, be quiet.” Zuko ordered.

(Aang thought it said a lot about them all that Sokka’s yelping was immediately silenced, all their attention sliding to Zuko and then towards the forest. Well, everyone but Azula, who walked up and stole Aang’s tea while he was distracted.)

There was music in the forest beyond, and it was getting closer. Zuko and Iroh took up defensive stances, while Sokka started towards the shore-line, and suddenly there were a handful of colorfully-dressed people dancing into view. Aang felt his lips quirk up in a smile at the simple joy in the music, the clear ‘carefree’ attitude that the group had. It was nice to see that despite a war and terror and everything else, there were still some people finding happiness.

“Hey! River people!” The man in front shouted, a little goofy despite his clear age.

“We’re not river people.” Sokka corrected, confusion and suspicion clear in his eyes.

(Sokka, while naturally suspicious, was never more suspicious of people than when they displayed some belief in magical-beings-that-weren’t-Spirits.)

“Oh, well, what kind of people are you?” The man returned.

Aang smiled and took over seamlessly, because Sokka would only become confrontational with that question.

“We’re just People people,” Aang assured.

The man accepted this and then flashed a still goofy smile. He introduced himself, his wife, and the rest of their troupe, and Aang was excited to learn that they were Nomads.

(Not his type of Nomad, but still a type of Nomad. It was nice to know that his people’s way of life hadn’t been completely abandoned.)

Sokka didn’t stay for the whole introduction - he grabbed his clothing and stomped off grumbling about ‘unnecessary risks,’ while Aang and Katara simply got dressed where they stood. Zuko returned his attention to making lunch, and it didn’t escape Aang’s notice when the usually anti-social boy started pulling out additional ingredients for more people. He was bouncing on his toes in excitement and then bouncing in place when they sat down to speak to Chong and his troupe.

Sokka stomped back just as Chong had finished telling them about a giant night-crawler he was willing to lead them to if they liked adventure. Sokka sat through him excitedly sharing the shortened version of things the Nomad’s had told them about, even though Aang could tell he’d really rather be trying to shuffle them all onto Appa. He appreciated the Southern Warrior’s attempts to be patient.

“That all sounds nice, Aang, but we need to think about heading to Omashu soon.” Sokka eventually cut in, and then begrudgingly accepted a bowl of food that Zuko shoved towards him.

“Some’s got a case of destination fever!” Chong chortled, and his wife nodded happily.

“It’s less about the ‘where’ and more about the ‘going,’ you know?” She added.

(It didn’t escape Aang’s notice that Katara was letting Lily show her how to weave flowers into her hair, and Azula was sitting close-but-not-too-close, watching keenly.)

Sokka was scowling in full force.

“Oh-Mah-Shu.” He enunciated, his mouth half-full as he speedily ate.

Aang beamed a smile at Sokka, and Katara willfully stood up - a bit reluctantly - and drew her braid over her shoulder curiously.

“Sokka is right, I guess. We do need to get going so King Bumi can teach Aang Earth bending.” She worried at the end of her braid for a second, then glanced over at where Azula was quickly retreating towards their packs.

“Sounds like you’re heading to Omashu!” Chong declared.

Sokka looked a second away from slapping himself or someone else, so it’s probably a good thing the Nomad started talking about secret tunnels.

“Are they real or a legend?” Katara interrupted curiously, and Chong started strumming his Dramyin.

“Oh, it’s a real legend!” He declared.

Sokka looked even more snappy-and-slap-willing, and then the Nomads were singing again. Aang could tell that Chong had lost any ground he might have held within the first few verses, because Sokka was extra scowly and Zuko looked angry-but-pale-and-trying-to-hide-it.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing that!” Zuko shouted, glaring empathically at the Nomads, and then at Aang, and then at the ground.

(The air became marginally warmer in a laughter-bright way, and Aang hid a smile at Zuko by turning quickly towards Chong.)

“Thanks for the information, but we’ll be able to handle ourselves. Appa doesn’t like being underground.” He chirped, bouncing on his toes.

Appa groaned loudly in agreement, then slowly stood, huffing. Azula tossed Zuko his pack, and everyone else took up the cue and started gathering their things together.

“That’s right. We’ve faced the Fire Nation before — how bad could it be?” Katara laughed, and Aang felt some of his internal worries melt a little at the sound. She was right. What could the Fire Nation throw at them that they hadn’t already faced?

* * *

There was Fire Nation infantry at the border between provinces. They were flinging flaming hot rocks that Zuko couldn’t put out fast enough, and even Azula and Uncle were having trouble keeping them from being set on fire. The stress of the whole thing had him shouting appropriately. If he was maybe shouting some of the curses that the former Naval officers on the Wani had taught him - well, Uncle couldn’t punish the men now, when the Wani Crew was long gone.

Aang, Momo, Katara, and Sokka were screaming-squealing-yelling, and Zuko was seconds away from joining them. Dumpling and Noodle were yowling loudly, their jaws snapping at stray sparks in agitation. Appa jerked and turned around, and they were flying away, Aang’s big grey eyes looking frantic.

They would not be getting to Omashu via the air.

“We’re going with those stupid bards, aren’t we?” Zuko asked quietly, nearly twenty minutes later, voice raw from all the shouting he’d been doing.

Sokka looked just as exhausted as Zuko felt, falling into the space across from Sokka and staring back the way they’d come - where there was still evidence of fiery-rocks being flung at them. Uncle collapsed next to Zuko, breathing deeply, while Azula settled down in the back of the saddle by an agitated set of Severals, critically watching the receding line of infantry.

(That thoughtful furrow was back in force, like she knew something but couldn’t remember what she knew.)

“We’re using the secret love-caves,” Sokka confirmed, eyes wide.

Katara nodded weakly from where she was clutching the front of the saddle, just behind Aang.

“Right. Stupid secret love caves.” Zuko nodded.

(He tried not to think about heaps and heaps of rocks blocking off their connection to Agni, tried not to think about being buried alive and far away from his Deity’s great burning gaze.)

“It can’t be all that bad, right?” Aang asked weakly.

No one answered, because they were sure that answering would tempt Yama’s minions. They made it back to where they’d last seen the Nomads, and the group looked weirdly startled to see them. Sokka was the first to speak, looking irritable the entire time.

“Secret love cave!” He huffed, motioning for the Bards to stand and follow, “Let’s go!”

Zuko already felt drained by their presence, and they hadn’t even started singing yet. They were like having adult Aangs around. Well, adult Aangs that sang. Zuko was not amused. Azula slipped up to his left side, opposite of Katara, and lightly took hold of his sleeve, a scowl on her face.

(Now he was worried about the poor Nomads being preemptively set on fire. As much as he disliked their too-bountiful loudness and cheerful absent-minded-no-worries-attitude, he didn’t want to see them set on fire.)

The Nomads lead them to a deep tunnel, framed between a small slice of towering Earthy cliffs. Of course, the tunnels were also a labyrinth and apparently _cursed_. Sokka and Zuko seemed to be the only ones concerned by this, but that was because they took potential-Spirit-meddling more seriously than even Aang did. Azula scoffed at the idea of a curse, and looked intrigued by the idea of a labyrinth, and he knew things became substantially more complicated because he’d have to keep a careful eye on Azula and Aang.

Stupid secret love caves.

“Hey, look, someone’s started a campfire!” One of the troupe announced, pointing back the way they’d come. Zuko slumped the slightest bit.

“That’s not a campfire. The Fire Nation is tracking us.” Sokka grumbled, and Zuko knew he wasn’t imagining the ‘_because of course they were,_’ that remained unsaid.

They rushed into the tunnel as quickly as possible, and he felt more than saw the distinctive sizzle of a flaming rock being shot after them. The air became burning rage, the sunlight hard and gleaming around them, but they were cut off from the feeling when they rushed into the mouth of the cave.

The entrance started crumbling behind them, and a strange shift beneath his feet distracted him for only a second before they were all watching in mute horror as they were blocked in. Appa was groaning in irritation, padding softly at the new rock wall.

While Aang fluttered over to the bison and started trying to soothe him, A sudden light had him turning sharply. One of the troupe had lit a torch, and was holding it aloft easily.

“How long will those torches last?” Sokka asked the Nomads, sending a brief side-eyed stare at Zuko, Iroh and Azula.

Zuko promptly took Azula’s hand to keep her from saying anything about them not needing a torch, and she was so startled by the action she didn’t even stomp on his shoes to punish him for grabbing her unexpectedly.

“About two hours,” Chong answered, and his wife smilingly pulled out several more.

“We have five of them, so they’ll last ten hours!” Lily added, and while Sokka dealt with that, Zuko and Azula shuffled a little further away from the glowing flame. If they got too close, the flames would rise and fall with their breaths.

(Azula notably didn’t let go, not even when Sokka had lead them to the third dead-end. Or was it the same dead-end, just for the third time?)

She did let go of him when the wolf-bats arrived, slipping into a defensive stance. Then Appa was stomping and Zuko was panicking, trying to keep track of everyone, and somehow, he lost sight of Azula. Up until the rocks were coming down and he looked over his shoulder, and watched in mute horror as Azula was scooped up by Uncle, who dove after Aang and Katara on the other side of the cave.

Afterward, he was looking at large rocks and tumbling stones, and breathing shaky. The torch flickered with his rapid breaths, and the light danced unnaturally over the walls. When Sokka started digging, Zuko started helping, and Dumpling stood agitated guard, clearly not sure why they were digging, but willing to keep watch while they did so.

“Hey, at least you still have us!” Chong declared, and Zuko felt his temper spark.

(The torches burned bright-higher-hotter, and he finally forced himself to calm down, then shared a mute look of horror with Sokka.)

“Stupid Secret Love Caves.” They grumbled in unison, then turned towards the others.

“We need to get out of here. Aang and the others will meet us up at the exit.” Sokka declared, and Zuko clenched his jaw.

(Azula was okay. Uncle had grabbed her, she was okay.)

Somehow, thinking this over and over again wasn’t as helpful as it should have been.

* * *

Aang stared wide-eyed at the rocks, and then laid a comforting hand on an agitated Appa, and another on a hissing Noodle.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. We just - need to keep going, and they’ll all be there at the exit, right? They have Sokka with them, and he’s bound to figure it out now that he and Zuko are alone with Chong.” He declared, trying to be chipper but knowing it was coming out strained.

Azula was glaring at the rock wall in front of them like it had personally offended her, her hands clenched. She stood a little apart from them, and Iroh stood in between her and them, looking incredibly concerned.

“Aang’s right,” Katara said softly, laying a comforting hand on Uncles' arm, then sending a soft smile at Aula.

“Sokka and Zuko aren’t going to spend any more time with Chong and his troupe than they have to. You know how they are.” She encouraged, and then plucked up the remaining torch carefully.

“You can light the way if this runs out, right?” She asked Azula, who seemed instantly distracted by the insinuation that she wasn’t capable enough to hold an open flame for a long period.

“Of course I can.” She huffed, flipping her braid over her shoulder and turning on her heel to glare at the darkness.

Noodle jumped down from Appa’s horns, and paced next to her when she started into the darkness, his tail flickering back and forth. It seemed that Noodle disliked being underground as much as Appa did. A second after they thought she’d slipped out of sight, and before they could start worrying, an eerie, beautiful blue glow lit up the cave ahead of them, highlighting the contours of Azula’s face as she looked back to them.

“Point proven.” Katara laughed and slipped forward. Iroh and Aang followed after, and the silence without Chong’s chatter or his tropes absent playing was suddenly heavy.

“In the absence of sound, one often finds enlightenment within,” Iroh announced softly, smiling when Katara and Aang looked.

Aang could only think about how Sokka would be seriously trying to understand the Proverb, while Zuko would be grumbling over the words, and Dumpling would be copying Zuko, grumbling and chittering and fluffing her feathers - exclusively so that Zuko would reach down and give her good-girl-scritches.

They wandered, straight ahead, and only occasionally making a turn when Noodle would plant his feet and hiss down the direction they’d intended to go. Appa kept dumping into their backs, clearly nervous over being underground, and right when Aang was beginning to think they were going to have to stop and give the nervous bison another soothing head rub, Azula stopped in front of them, her blue flame flickering out while she pointed straight ahead.

“There’s some sort of door.” She announced.

Katara and Aang took a few more steps, squinting into the darkness, but Uncle seemed to see it too because he gave the area Azula was pointing a critical look.

“That looks quite heavy.” He announced, and they all drew closer.

Uncle was right. The circular door was probably meant to be moved with Earth bending, because it was heavy and unmoving, no matter how they pushed at it. Just as they were stepping back from their third attempt to try and wedge it open somehow, a loud, groaning whuff sounded.

Appa was pawing the ground, big brown eyes wide with determination, and they weren’t given very long to scramble away from the door before Appa was charging it. The sound that echoed had Aang worried he’d need to check his bison over for a cracked head, but Appa stepped back and groaned, and the door shuddered a second before it slipped back and away.

(There was a shift beneath his feet that accompanied this, a building rumbling feeling that felt the same as - and disconnected from - the Earth around them.)

The door smoothly slid to one side, and Aang shared a wide-eyed look with Katara and Uncle, but Azula - sneaky, more nimble than he was sometimes - was already slipping through the door.

(There was a tingle on the back of his neck.)

“Azula wait!” Aang whispered, hurrying in after her, because as strong as Appa was, that door hadn’t simply fallen.

(Something was watching them.)

The movement had been too smooth. Katara followed after him, and Uncle after her, and Aang was relieved to see that Azula was just below them, standing in front of a squat, round pillar. Her blue flame danced softly over a raised palm. Aang paused half-way down the stairs and stared. The squat pillar wasn't a squat pillar, but a stone sarcophagus. 

“This is a tomb.” He suddenly declared, and the whole room seemed to thrum in distant agreement.

* * *

They were singing. They wouldn’t _stop_ singing. Sokka was just trying to think, and the Nomads just kept singing. Zuko was very purposefully walking in front of him, shoulders straight and tense, and Sokka’s hand clenched over the torch he held. Momo had curled up on Sokka’s shoulders some time ago, quivering and alarmed because the darkness had teeth.

(They’d run into three more wolf-bat’s, and only Dumpling spitting acid and Zuko swinging swords had kept the Lemur from being eaten.)

They ran into another dead-end, and Sokka had had just about enough of bards, thank you.

“Oh great,” Moku sighed, “your plans have lead us to another dead end!”

Sokka felt the urge to kick the rock-wall in front of him and barely repressed it, while Zuko carefully took the map he’d been trying to draw and looked it over critically.

“At least I’m thinking of ideas and trying to get us out of here, _Moku! _” Sokka declared, whirling on the drummer with a scowl that he’d learned from Zuko.

“Wait, were we thinking of ideas?” Chong asked, looking confused. “I’ve had an idea for like, an hour now!”

Sokka gave the man an incredulous stare, and for the first time, Zuko ‘spoke,’ (see: shouted appropriately) to the Nomad.

“Yes! We’re all thinking of ideas, Chong!” Zuko even waved the map purposefully to illustrate how much that should have been evident.

Sokka wished he hadn’t left his club on the saddle, because he would have knocked the man out if he had it. Maybe the irritating buzz in the back of his head would go away if the Nomad leader couldn’t thrum absently anymore.

“Well, I was thinking, since the curse says to trust in love, why don’t we play a love song?” Chong continued, weirdly unbothered by Zuko’s shouting.

Sokka and Zuko deflated at the same time, eyes fluttering to each other in shared misery. The troupe started playing without any more prompting, and Sokka felt his hand flying up to slap his forehead. Momo patted him softly on the head, and Zuko nodded in understanding, and together they stomped after the stupid Nomads.

“I hope the others are doing better than we are,” Sokka grumbled, and a new line of anxiety entered Zuko’s shoulders. Sokka felt like slapping his head again and did, because why not, then turned quickly to his battle-buddy.

“Sorry. I mean, I _know_ they’re okay, because they had Azula and Uncle with them, and Katara will keep them all focused on getting out!” He hurriedly corrected.

(Neither of them needed to wonder what Aang would be doing. The kid was too easy-going to be worried over-much about being in an underground labyrinth, especially since he was trapped there with friends.)

* * *

Azula ran a finger over the last of the pictographs and hummed in consideration. There was a distinct fantasy-like aspect to the story itself, and she had a hard time believing that an Earth bender as powerful as Oma apparently was just — _letting_ the people responsible for killing someone she ‘loved,’ go. It sounded too fanciful that she solved her problems through peace.

“This is a nice story, but somehow I doubt it’s the truth.” She corrected, having kept an ear on the Avatar and Katara’s conversation.

She looked up with interest at Katara and Aang - whom she’d learned were the softest of the group. They were more easily swayed or amused by fanciful ideas, but at least they could be made to see reason. Aang blinked at her in surprise, and Katara tilted her head in — something.

(She didn’t know Katara well enough yet to guess at what her expressions meant. Aang was just easy to read - which was the most tolerable thing about the boy.)

“What do you mean?” Aang asked innocently.

There were times, over the last month and a half, that the darker portion of Azula had wanted to break the Air bender. To sear and rend and burn and hurt, just to see what he’d do with all that naivety afterward.

(The parts of her that had been carefully cultivated by Zuko knew these thoughts were wrong. Knew they were the product of Ozai’s cruelty. It didn't stop her from thinking them.)

“Think about it, Avatar. You’re a powerful bender, one that’s found a . . . let's say a ‘reason’ to keep going, during a time of war. That ‘reason’ is taken from you, with no explanation until it’s too late to do something about it. And then you find out that the people you lived with, the people you claimed, had done something horrible to them.” Azula started, eyes drifting to the ridiculous statue of the two lovers.

(In a corner of her mind, she thought of Zuzu. She thought of his stupid happy smiles. Thought of how he was the first person to teach her what _happiness_ looked like. She thought of standing in a crowd and her idiot brother standing out of reach. She thought of Ozai standing over her brother- thought of the laughter that rang out when he declared he was his Father’s _loyal son_.)

The flame hovering over her palm flared and seared the air around it, and there was a distant-seeping-calm in the back of her mind, echoed by the _click-click-clack_ of many appendages.

“Would you show mercy?” She asked softly and looked up at Aang. 

(Her brother screamed and people laughed, and she hadn’t been aware of it then, but that was the day her Country lost her tentative and shaky trust.)

“Would you fight peacefully, let the ones - that had _broken_ something that didn’t belong to them - go? Would you build them a city and invite them to make more peace?” She kept on, her free hand fluttering up to her waist, where she kept Zuzu’s dagger to her.

(Her brother, delirious with pain, being loaded onto a ship she couldn’t follow him onto. The halls of the Palace, quiet and frightened and knowing. For the first time, she was alone-alone-alone.)

“I— I mean . . .” Aang started, face falling at whatever expression she was making.

He was looking at her like he was going to do something appalling, like hug her or start blathering, and Katara looked like she would rather be doing something better - like fling icy daggers at someone.

(She was good at picking up pity and rage respectively. Those two emotions were important ones to know.)

“You have a point,” Katara said slowly, eyes fluttering to the statue above them, “how could someone show mercy in the face of that? But - maybe it’s based on some truths. Maybe, even if she didn’t show mercy to the one’s that took her lover - maybe she showed mercy to the ones left behind. Maybe she tried to build on what had been broken.”

They all lapsed into silence then, and Aang, still looking wounded-thoughtful-too-many-things was biting his lip and watching the statue sightlessly. Azula kept her opinions about building on broken foundations to herself, and instead turned towards the only other exit out of the room. Uncle followed her to it in silence, and they both stood there waiting for the Avatar and Katara, who were whispering to each other. Their body-language stated they might be arguing.

(But she could be wrong, since sometimes she thought they were arguing with Sokka, but they were all too happy afterward for it to have been true every time.)

“It is said that no one rejoices more in revenge than strong women do —” Iroh started slowly, and when she looked up, he was unexpectedly solemn-looking.

(Uncle was one of those people that was half easy to read, and half hard to read, but right now he was easy.)

“And in this, I do not blame you, niece. I merely caution you in your quest - because your brother will not leave you be, now he has you back. Any plans for revenge you make will have to take him - and myself - into account.”

That was — unexpected. Azula blinked at him and frowned, because she wasn’t sure why she should account for him too - Zuzu was almost a no brainer because she’d trust no one else to help her sneak into the palace - but Iroh . . .

He loved Zuko more. She might not always understand ‘love,’ but she did understand this. If their Uncle ‘loved’ anyone still, he loved Zuko, not her.

(What she understood, even more, was that if anyone ‘loved’ her, it was Zuko. She very pointedly did not think about a secret smile and gleaming eyes, and soft-callused-hands that handed her cups of tea and called her ‘Princess,’ in a way that sounded like ‘_daughter_.’)

“Why you?” She asked bluntly, flexing her fingers and transferring her flame from one hand to another.

“Niece,” Iroh said, an odd tone in his voice that made her look up, “I have not always understood you, but that is my flaw to bear. I left you behind when Zuko was at risk, but that fact does not mean that I do not care for you - only that you have always seemed capable of taking care of yourself, while Zuko has always needed more assurance that he can do the same.” The unspoken message there being that her Dum-Dum of a big brother needed more protection from _himself_ than she did.

There was something wrong with his eyes and his face while he said these things. She didn’t understand the expression, because she’d never seen anything like it on his face while it was directed at her.

(He was no longer easy to read.)

“I know why you left.” She interrupted, hoping to wipe that look off his face. It was too confusing. “I just don’t understand why you think I’d need your help getting revenge.”

Uncle stared at her and then his lips twitched into what was probably a real smile and not a fake smile.

“You and your brother will need someone to play distraction, will you not?” He asked, and it sounded jovial.

Azula stilled and started then, slowly nodded. She'd had abstract ideas of a distraction to that point, but he was right. Knowing who would have all the guards distracted, who would keep their attention away from the vulnerable parts of the Palace, would be easier. She didn’t respond further though, and Uncle didn’t push on the subject she had been trying to distract him from, and was glad he’d stopped talking about.

(And here she kept seeing Uncle’s eyes as he climbed onto the boat, all old-soft-wrong-wrong-wrong, and then the boat slipping out to sea.)

Azula was done talking about the day Zuzu had been pushed from their home. She illustrated this by turning and slipping through the exit as soon as Katara and Aang were approaching them. The soft-calm-seeping cold of distant _click-click-clacking_ followed her into the darkness.

She was tired of the stupid labyrinth, and wanted to find her Dum Dum of a brother now.

(They weren't supposed to make her feel raw inside. That was not how this day should have gone.)

* * *

There was a rumble, and a growl, and the sounds of very-unhappy-creatures coming towards them. Sokka and Zuko exchanged panicked looks. Zuko drew his swords, while Sokka proffered his torch higher. The troupe looked alarmed, and Momo squealed in terror and ducked down the back of Sokka’s tunic. Which was wiggly and not great, but if he could have done the same, he might have.

“Wolf-bats!” Moku squealed, and a whole herd of them came screaming out of the darkness.

Which. Was terrifying. Sokka let everyone else know how terrifying it was by screaming appropriately and waving the torch around, while Zuko spun his swords in tight circles and smacked the animals with the flat of the blade—

Which. _Why?_ Stupid Zuko and his stupid soft heart for stupid-deadly-animals. Even Dumpling was being careful in her swipes, looking far more playful than she should for being a ferocious, acid-spitting-apex-predator. Of course, that wasn’t what alarmed Sokka the most.

The most alarming was that the wolf-bats were very clearly running from something.

“Hey-hey! The shouty-sword-guy saved us!” Chong exclaimed, and Sokka scowled.

“No! They were running from something. We need to—”

Before he could finish, the tunnel around them rumbled, and the Earth beneath his feet gave a weird jerk-tug, which shouldn’t have happened. Sokka dropped his torch, and Chong stumbled into him, and everyone was losing their balance except Zuko and then—

Then there were giant badger-moles boxing them in. Zuko tensed and Sokka scrambled to pull out his own sword, and the troupe was, for once, stunned into silence. No one moved, and then one of the badger-moles, the one closer to Zuko, slowly shuffled forward, and Zuko didn’t move back.

“Zuko!” He hissed, starting to step forward, and Zuko made a small, halting move.

Confused, concerned and alarmed, Sokka almost asked his battle-brother if he’d hit his head while Sokka wasn’t looking, because he was supposed to be the smart one when—

The badger-mole gently pressed it’s snout to Zuko’s chest and the boy stiffened, then slowly reached up to gentle the fur along its muzzle.

“It’s okay. They’ll lead us out.” Zuko said a minute later, looking dazed-confused-pre-shouty, and Sokka wondered, not for the first time since his sister _yelled_ the Avatar back into being, how this became his life.

“Oh, and did they tell you that?” Sokka asked, his natural skepticism making his voice slightly-not-as-manly as he normally preferred.

“Yes,” Zuko responded seriously.

Sokka snapped his mouth shut, gave the badger-moles a serious once over, and then decided to stop fighting, on the off-chance that these were spirits in disguise.

(Because Spirits were weirdly attracted to Zuko, no matter what the other boy said. He’d never more strongly questioned his life than he did when he was alone with Zuko and something Spirity happened. Like that one time after Crescent Island when a Ferret-fox had heard Zuko complaining about there not being any ripe fruit where they’d camped, and then brought him a whole bunch of fruit.)

“Right. Okay then.” Sokka grumbled. What could he, as a devoted believer in Spirits, do when they’d clearly Picked A Favorite? He definitely wasn’t going to argue about getting out of the labyrinth.

“Tell them to lead the way then. Oh, and ask them about Katara!” He ordered, plucking his torch back up and motioning the troupe towards the badger-moles.

Zuko scowled at him and huffed and generally displayed that he was seconds away from shouting the roof down around them.

“It doesn’t work like that!” He hissed, and Sokka very pointedly continued to disbelieve him.

“Ask them if they’ll go get the others after we’re out.” He insisted, and then climbed aboard when prompted.

Zuko continued to tell him exactly why that wasn’t possible, Sokka continued to ignore him saying why it wasn’t possible, and the troupe, for the first time, didn’t seem to know what they should be doing. This, unfortunately, didn’t last. They were strumming even before the first hole in the rock-face was made.

* * *

The torch that Aang carried was about to go out, and Katara was stressing over this fact. Iroh and Azula had been taking turns keeping an additional light source up, but the fact was that they weren’t sure how long they’d be stuck down here, and they couldn’t really ask Iroh and Azula to wear themselves out.

(Though Azula probably wouldn’t even consider it that much of a strain.)

“What are we going to do? We’re no closer to being out, and the torch is nearly gone.” Aang worried, staring down at the nearly-dead wick.

Azula stared at them over a thin shoulder and frowned, while Iroh hummed in thought.

“You could just do what the stupid statue recommended.” Azula suddenly offered. 

Katara and Aang shared a confused look. Iroh tapped his chin and stroked his beard in thought.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try.” He suddenly muttered, and Katara thought back to the statue.

_Love shines brightest in the dark._ Frowning, Katara tilted her head and silently asked them to explain, please. Azula sighed, looking at them blandly.

“Put out all the lights,” Azula said slowly.

Aang frowned.

“Where in ‘_love shines brightest in the dark,_’ does it say— Oh. I get it.” Aang started, then bounced on his toes.

Katara was smiling now too, and Iroh watched them all with a soft look. Aang smothered the flame, and they were plunged into darkness, until a soft glow started overhead. Gems along the ceiling were coming to brilliant life above them, traveling a dim path along the ceiling.

“Oh.” Katara breathed, and had to admit - that was impressive.

“That’s brilliant!” Aang exclaimed, clearly excited, and Katara nodded along.

“No wonder no one could ever find them! Most people wouldn’t be comfortable with putting out their light source! They could just snuff their lights and follow the trail!” Katara exclaimed, and Azula stared in mild distrust at the gems above them.

“I didn’t know stones could glow.” She announced, looking extremely bothered by this fact.

Iroh smiled an excited smile and gently started ushering them forward.

“It’s called Jennamite, Niece. Most large Earth Kingdom settlements will use it as a light source if they have access to it.”

Azula walked very purposefully next to him, staring hard at the ceiling.

“Where did it originate from?” She asked.

“It will grow naturally anywhere that’s deep enough, but from what I remember, the largest mines are in Ba Sing Se, with a minor one in Omashu, and a few smaller ones scattered over the Northern Mountains.” Uncle explained jovially.

(The questions continued, through their entire walk down the path. If Iroh talked about something Azula had never heard of, she immediately asked about its relevance. It was the most child-like Katara had ever seen the Fire Nation Princess, outside of the way she doggedly followed Zuko around.)

When they finally found the exit, Appa rushed the door, and rammed right into it in his eagerness. That same watchfulness made a sudden reappearance, and the door slid open and away. It was another short walk out of a wide, taller tunnel, and they were in the sunlight.

Azula and Iroh both sat down in a large sunny patch and turned their faces upwards. Or rather, Iroh turned his face upwards with a happy smile. Azula turned until she was watching the exit they’d left the labyrinth from and tilted her head slightly up, bland expression firmly in place. The child with a dozen questions and a dislike for not-knowing was gone, and the child that firmly Didn’t Believe in Agni was back.

Katara was wondering if they should go looking for Sokka and Zuko when the mountain-face started to rumble, and two holes suddenly appeared to one side of the exit. Standing in the holes were badger-moles, and on top of the badger-moles were the rest of their people.

“Katara!” Sokka called, and she’d never heard her brother so happy to see her.

(He even slid down the side of the badger-mole he’d been riding, expression wide and excited.)

“You’re riding badger-moles!” She exclaimed, pointing at the large, surprisingly fluffy looking animals.

Zuko was slipping down from the badger-mole he and Sokka had been sitting on, much more cautiously than Sokka had. She was positive that was out of worry for the animal more than it was a worry for himself. Sokka stopped in front of her and she didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over her, Azula, Uncle, and Aang. The tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he glanced back at where the animals were quickly disappearing. 

(Aang looked incredibly upset to have missed out on the opportunity to ride a badger-mole.)

“Yeah, they found us like - I don’t know an hour ago? They did some weird communication thing with Zuko, and now - here we are!” He exclaimed.

Zuko, who’d claimed a seat between Azula and Iroh and also turned his face sky-ward, turned to glare. Katara stared between them and then focused on the most important thing.

“Are you guys alright? Anyone hurt?” She asked.

(At this point, badger-moles helping Zuko barely garnered a raised eye-brow, because she’d seen their battle-brother coo at snarling animals and calm them down. The only time that hadn’t worked had been the Boar-Q-Pine Incident.)

“Nah, we’re all fine,” Sokka announced, waving his hand, and Katara gave his forehead a pointed look.

“Why’s your forehead all red then?”

Before he could answer, Chong slipped up to them wide-eyed and glanced furtively over to where Aang was excitedly chatting at the troupe.

”No one react to what I’m about to tell you, but I think that kid’s the Avatar!” He exclaimed.

Sokka’s hand suddenly came up and slapped into his forehead, and Katara got an answer as to why his head looked bruised. Zuko was groaning in frustration behind them, and when she checked, he had, in fact, fallen backward and covered his face. He was also in the process of pretending not to be where he was.

The troupe left, and they turned to follow the path towards Omashu - which had taken consulting several maps and Iroh staring at the sky for several minutes. Sokka and Zuko had only spoken briefly about their time with the Nomads, both of them looking highly irritated. They’d been far more interested in the discovery of the tomb.

“—and then Azula pointed out that the story itself had probably been fantasied, because there was no way that a bender who could move mountains would be able to show mercy to the people that took away her lover, and then—“ Aang cut off abruptly, and Katara looked up from where she’d been studying the map.

She nearly dropped it.

They had reached Omashu. It was visible from the rise they stood on - the rise they’d intended to take off from, but Omashu was not the same. There were steel beams reaching towards it from the surrounding canyon walls, steel plating surrounding the walls, and so much smoke coming from within. It looked like a nightmare version of itself.

“Oh no.” Sokka breathed, and it was the most accurate summation she’d ever heard.


	23. Espionage and Visions in the Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so for once, this chapter took so long because I'm an emotional SOB and I couldn't stop crying while writing, and then I made myself sad, so I had to take a break and writing other things. But. We're one step closer to TOPH BEI FONG. Next chapter is essentially going to be all about Toph and the gang!

Zuko stared at the proof that his people, that Ozai’s people, had lost touch with the world around them. Azula’s hand was suddenly in his, and when he looked, her expression was a mixture of remembrance-guilt-hope-confusion. Which - made sense, if he thought about the frustrated, annoyed look on her face over the last few days, as if she knew something but couldn’t remember what.

“I can’t believe it,” Aang whispered, and there was an expression on his face that spoke of Southern corpses and old hurts, “Omashua has always seem so untouchable. How - how could they have claimed it, when half of them can’t even bend properly?” He asked weakly.

Azula spoke up, her expression carefully bland again, but he could see the light in her eyes that indicated discomfort.

“It happened . . . . Six-months ago? Perhaps seven. I didn’t - I forgot which one it was, couldn’t piece it together. The Governor in charge of this City was a prominent courtier until that point. Ozai granted him the position of Governor as both reward and punishment.” She drawled, and Zuko frowned at the sound of her voice.

(Slightly cold, all flat. Azula wasn’t very emotive, but he could tell when things really mattered to her.)

“Who was the Governor?” He asked, before Sokka or Aang could pester her for more information.

Azula’s hand clenched in his, then abruptly let go. He didn’t fight her to keep hold, simply watched as she started meandering towards the edge of the cliff.

“Mai’s father.” She said shortly, and Zuko knew without being told who was being punished and who was being rewarded.

“Alright. Alright,” Sokka cut in, stance firm and arms crossed, eyes on the City without seeming to see it, “this isn’t good, but—”

“But we need to move on.” Katara announced, eyes hard and glimmering in the sunlight.

Aang was still clutching his staff to his chest like if he let go, he’d fall. But his shoulders tensed and his stance firmed, and Zuko sighed. He knew that stance. That was the stance that had proceeded Crescent Island, and the Northern Air Temple, basically any situation where Aang got it into his head that it was his duty or responsibility to do something.

“No.” Aang almost growled.

“Aang, you don’t even know if Bumi is . . .” Sokka started, looking uncomfortable.

Aang turned sharply at Sokka’s words, his normally wide grey eyes narrowed and hard.

“Is what, Sokka?” The monk’s voice wobbled only slightly.

“Around.” Sokka weakly said and Zuko knew he’d lost. Before Aang could get all hyped about this - probably suicidal - rescue mission, Zuko reached out a staying hand and tugged on the Avatar’s Gi slightly.

“Alright. We’ll rescue your friend - but we can’t go charging over there in broad daylight.” He gruffed.

(Charging into the fortress in broad daylight is probably what he would do if he was on his own, so he didn’t really have a problem with the concept. What he did had a problem with was Aang attempting the same feat. Aang sucked at stealth.)

Katara, Azula and Sokka all sent him knowing looks, and Uncle slipped onto one knee, plucking up a stick. He had his General face on, expression serious.

“Sit, children. If we’re to do this, we must have an plan.” He ordered.

Zuko willingly folded down next to his Uncle, and Sokka copied him on Uncle’s other side. Katara and Azula sat down next to each other, surprisingly, while Aang took a few extra minutes of nervously fluttering about before he sat down in the remaining space, looking worried-frustrated-determined.

“Tell me what you know of Omashu.” Iroh ordered.

Aang took a deep breath and spoke.

* * *

Omashu had been taken. Ba Sing Se was the only Earth Kingdom stronghold left in the world now. The Fire Nation, despite falling apart from the inside out, simply had too deep a foothold. Which was Not Great, but Sokka was working on it. There was a solution - there was always a solution, if they worked hard enough.

(But this was a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces too yet. This was a problem he didn’t have enough tools in his arsenal to fix.)

Sokka determinedly shelved the problem of the Fire Nation foothold on the heart-beat of the Earth Kingdom, and tried to focus on what they were actually doing. Which was hopefully saving Aang’s insane friend and the people of this Kingdom. Aang had wanted to sneak in through the sewers, but Zuko had nixed that, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I hate crawling around in sewers.’

(There was definitely a story behind those words, one he didn’t want to Uncle to know, but one which Sokka was gleefully going to demand when they had a chance. It was bound to be more entertaining and less embarrassing than Aang’s too-innocently-delivered stories-from-long-dead-sailors. Sokka was still trying to figure out how to tell the Nomad what some of those stories actually meant.)

So, instead of crawling through sewers, they were using the dead of night and apparently wide-spread security problems to sneak in through a service door, which some Fire Nation Corporal had left ajar after what looked like a much-needed smoking break.

The leaves the man had burned had smelled all wrong, but the pipe had been a familiar-but-unrecognizable design. Sokka wondered if the Fire Nation people had always smoked from pipes, or if was something they’d culturally appropriated when free trade and no war was still the norm.

(These weren’t thoughts for espionage. No wonder Zuko kept telling him he was bad at this.)

Shaking his head and mentally shelving another point of debate to bring up to Iroh and Zuko, Sokka gripped his appropriated Fire Nation steel sword tighter, only briefly scowling at the way it wobbled. It was going to be useless to him pretty soon, but at least he’d had his machete and club to fall back on. The line in front of him moved, and he followed deftly in Azula’s footsteps.

Zuko was leading in the front, with Katara behind him and Aang - a lemur tail sticking out from his Gi - behind her, then Azula, him and Iroh.

(Dumpling had tried to follow them on foot, but with a sharp click of Zuko’s fingers and a soft sound that could have been a growl, she had sulked her way to the edge of the canyon and winged up, disappearing into the darkness in a scary-easy way.)

They had needed Aang in the middle because if all else failed, he would be protected. Zuko sat and listened by the door that stood ajar - a door that looked like it had been made only after a hole had been blown into the wall - before he slipped in quietly and the line moved again.

They were lead up a series of stairs, and then through a series of hallways, and just as Sokka was beginning to wonder if Zuko actually knew where he was going, they ended up on a balcony that was still made of stone and poorly lit in the night. They quietly observed the dead city, then looked as one to Aang.

The Nomad’s big grey eyes were wide and hurt, but that determined light that always drove Sokka crazy was still there. They weren’t just going to turn around and walk away at any point in this. Not until Aang had been given proof that King Bumi was no longer a factor in the complicated equation of the war.

“Where do you keep an Earth bender?” Katara asked softly, voice muffled and eyes concealed under a Water-tribe mask she’d turned up with after the Pirate Incident. It was a mask that matched Zuko’s in that it was mostly blue and white, but Katara’s was fashioned after La, with four ‘eye’ and a scattering of fur where sideburns would be.

(Though having seen La in the . . . Did Spirits have flesh? No! Focus Sokka! Having seen La, he could say that some clear creative license had been taken.)

A soft thump and a warm body was suddenly wiggling its way between him and Azula. Sokka reached up to give Dumpling absent-minded good-girl-scritches, and Aang started speaking again, voice all worried.

“Somewhere he couldn’t bend. Somewhere metal. As far from the Earth as they could get him.”

Azula was nodding to this, one of her hands under Dumpling’s chin, soothing through the soft, downy feathers-and-fur there.

“A common practice among Ozai’s people is to display fallen rulers somewhere they can be seen, but where they can do no damage.” She muttered.

Almost as one, Azula and Zuko turned to glance up at the large structure sitting over the main palace of Omashu. Sokka couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be from this distance, but that might also have been due to the large looking canvas-clothes stretched over it.

“We’ll need to find a way to get the people out,” Katara announced.

Sokka wondered why he’d been stuck with a bleeding-heart for a sister, one that specifically liked to make things difficult.

“I think young Sokka and I will be able to achieve something,” Iroh announced, eyeing the far gate critically.

The other four in their party shifted in thought, then nodded.

“You guys figure out how to get the citizens out. We’ll go look for Bumi.” Aang declared.

Azula looked like she’d rather be doing anything else but helping to look for Bumi. Sokka could understand that feeling, as he also had little desire to be on this suicide mission. He reached out without thought and clapped a hand onto Zuko’s shoulder, nudged Katara, and patted Aang’s head. Azula received a short, respectful nod, because she’d made her boundaries clear.

They broke apart. Sokka just hoped they had the whole mess solved before sun-up, because if there were any soldiers that could bend, it would only take a dozen determined ones to outnumber him and Iroh.

* * *

Zuko again checked behind them, and felt increasing irritation. Aang, who’d been very careful to keep close to him up to that point, happened to catch the look.

“Don’t worry Zuko. Dumpling disappeared when she did. I’m sure Azula is going to be just fine, and she knows where we’re going.” Aang soothed, though he notably looked concerned.

Zuko scowled at the Nomad and very purposefully looked away. Katara paused in front of them, and they both crouched down when she did, taking their cues from her. If it weren’t for the need of stealth, he’d be yelling about how of course he knew Azula could handle herself.

(It was Omashu he was worried about. Just Omashu. Alright, fine, so he was worried about Azula, but he had to figure out how to look like he hadn’t been, because she’d drag him into a sparring match if she found out.)

Besides—

Mei was in this city.

(Soft laughter, high and gentle. Too gentle to be from Azula. He looked up and a girl in brilliant pink was spinning rapidly around his baby sister. Standing just beside Azula, within the circle of spinning-laughter, was another girl. She was slight and pale and looked impossibly sad, but there was a small smile on her face, just as there was on Azula’s.)

Whether Azula admitted to it or not, Mei and Ty Lee both had meant something to her. He just hoped that she’d meant something to them, because if she hadn’t —

(A spark of protective rage in his chest, one he forcibly banked because now was not the time.)

They were sneaking past a warren of metal, a deep pit with narrow stairs and a large wheel in the middle. There was a sort of barn/overhang in the opposite corner. A large white fluffy thing was curled tightly into a corner. Aang stopped just in front of him, and Zuko stopped too. The bundle of white-possibly-grey fur suddenly shot into an upright position and looked over to them.

They’d found Flopsie but no Bumi.

After releasing the useless beast, Aang insisted that it would be coming along. Zuko didn't have the heart to fight him just then, because the disgusting, drooling monster did look pathetic. They continued on their way to the structure high above them, the one draped in tarps. They find Azula lounging in the darkness of several crates, softly carding her fingers through a content-looking Dumpling’s fur. Zuko found himself hurrying over to her without making it look like he hurried.

“I know where Bumi is,” She started, glancing up and eyeing them all critically, then wrinkling her nose up at Flopsie.

Aang started bouncing on his toes, and Flopsie looked a second away from giving away their position.

“Where?” Aang cried, clutching his staff with one hand and rubbing a hand over Flopsie’s snout with another.

“They built a prison just for him. Not in the dungeons, but up here. They didn’t want to risk him somehow bringing the whole palace down around them.” She shrugged.

Aang started looking around in mild confusion, and Zuko crouched down next to Azula slowly.

“How’d you figure all that out?” He asked cautiously.

Azula’s gaze focused on where she was petting Dumpling, her words almost too quiet.

“Mei. I found her. I also found soldiers that are loyal to - Uncle. Some of them will be providing us with a distraction, when we need it. The others are taking Mei to Myong for me.” She shrugged, then casually stopped lounging against the crates and straightened.

Zuko chose to address everything she’d just said later, when it could be just them and a cup of tea. She leads them purposefully to the middle of the structure, then up several levels. Though of course, they heard him before they see him. Bumi’s distinct cackle-snort laugh plagued some of Zuko’s nightmares.

(Though to be fair to the King, those were the tame nightmares. The ones where he was trapped in a room with the insane man while he sprouted nonsensical riddles and periodically turned objects into stone and ate them.)

“Bumi!” Aang called, rushing forward into a square of clear space where a metal coffin was standing straight up.

The King’s face blinked at them from a small window, and he frowned only slightly.

“Aang? What are you doing here?” He asked.

Zuko sighed and settled in to play look-out as far from the King as he could get. Azula settled next to him, arms held at attention, folded firmly behind her back. Dumpling kept pacing between him and Aang, ears twitching. 

“We’re here to rescue you! Hold on, we’ll get you out of there.” Aang promised.

Bumi made a sound of protest, and then said probably the most irritating thing Zuko had heard since the Norther Water Tribe started being idiotic about female warriors.

“No, Aang, I have to stay!” Bumi argued, eyes alight with fever-bright insanity.

“What? But Bumi—” Aang started, and the King interrupted.

“Listen, Aang, this is important. In life, how you deal with conflict is called the Jing philosophy—” Bumi started.

Aang made an impatient noise, his voice cutting through the probably lengthy explanation of Jing.

“I know. There’s Positive Jing while attacking, and Negative Jing while retreating.” The Nomad sounded like a young boy that was being given a lecture he’d heard many times over.

(Zuko had never been allowed to be that kind of young boy, but that was alright, because being able to learn how to hold his tongue had been an important life lesson. One he mostly ignored these days, because there was no one that would look at him funny for speaking his mind.)

“And, Neutral Jing, where you do nothing!” Bumi chirped.

Aang’s shoulders screamed exasperated confusion, and then he waved one hand quickly, bouncing in place in barely concealed energy.

“What does any of that matter, Bumi? I need to get you out of here!” He cried.

Katara shuffled forward hesitantly, then slowly lifted her mask. Bumi blinked at her, and he could just see the desire to comment about human’s wearing Spirit faces, but Katara spoke first.

“Aang needs an Earth bending instructor, Bumi. And your people need someone to lead them.”

Bumi shook his head as much as he could, looking very serious.

“No. Aang needs a teacher that lives and breaths Neutral Jing, and I need to stay here. It isn’t yet the opportune time to take back my city.” Aang deflated, and Zuko shifted, and he and Azula both did their best to ignore the quiet, heartfelt conversation being muttered between two people that had been boys together.

Finally, Aang ducked his head and shuffled towards Flopsie, who sadly licked Bumi’s face - which was gross, there was slobber everywhere - and let Aang lead him away. Zuko followed without comment, slipped past both the Nomad and Flopsie, trusting Azula and Katara to watch their backs. The city beyond them had changed in the time since they’d slipped under the canvas drapes.

There was a commotion going on at the gates, and people were streaming out of the city. One of the gate doors looked like it had fallen off the large hinges hold it up. He could only assume that Sokka was responsible for that oddity. Aang talked Katara into climbing onto Flopsie’s haunch, and Azula seemingly considered her options before she followed the older girl up. They would have to take Flopsie towards the gates and over the wall.

Zuko and Aang took to the rooftops at the same time, and Flopsie followed. If all went according to plan, Sokka and Iroh would be with the fleeing citizens. They split off from Katara and Azula, and Zuko forced himself to focus on the next jump he had to take, rather than the fact that Azula and Katara were charging right towards danger.

Their mission had been a bust, but at least they knew Bumi was being kept alive.

* * *

They camped with the refugees that night. Aang got to hear the story of the day Omashu was taken from the guards that were mixed in with the regular citizens. Katara watched Zuko make aggressive eye-contact with one of the beefier guards, who looked at her battle-brother with murder in his eyes and shuffled his feet until they were very pointedly nowhere near Zuko’s. Aang caught Iroh and Sokka up on what had happened with Bumi, and there was a general sense of frustration all around.

“I don’t get it.” Aang whispered at one point, long after the refugees had all gone to bed, despondent but not broken.

Zuko had looked to the boy and found him sitting up and hunched over Momo, slowly running and hand over the lemurs back in a manner that screamed ‘taking comfort.’

“Don’t get what?” Sokka asked, so Zuko didn’t have to.

(Katara could see the relief all the way from where she was re-braiding Azula's hair.)

Aang starred at the fur of Momo’s back, and opened his mouth slowly - a first. Usually, Aang was talking as fast as he physically could while still making sense.

“Bumi. He said it wasn’t the right time, but how could he know that?”

None of them had an easy answer, and the sense of frustration increased. Regardless. They had a new set of parameters for ‘Aang’s Earth bending Master,’ and now they only needed to find someone that fit.

(Well, someone that both fit, and wouldn’t try to smash Zuko, Iroh, and Azula with rocks.)

Across from her, the aggressive eye-contact with one of the former-Palace Guards continued, and Katara sighed. They had their job cut out for them.

* * *

Ozai stared. The missive in his hand continued to not make any sense. He contemplated using his carefully reserved energy to light it on fire, then changed his mind. His abilities were best used for intimidation factor in these hard times. Still — the missive stared back at him from his desk and Ozai was tempted. They’d lost thousands of soldiers to the Northern invasion he didn’t remember giving the order for.

Zhao, should he not be dead, would regret ever being born. He looked to the plans laid out before him and smiled. The drill was possibly the most useful thing they'd ever gotten out of that mad-man from the Earth Kingdom. It was a pity they'd have to raze what was left of the temple to the ground. He'd have liked to keep the inventor, at least.

“Sire?” Someone called, and Ozai’s attention was diverted. At least until the next time, he was himself.

(The times were becoming longer, closer together, easier to remember. Fire Lord Ozai would rise from the ashes of his own fall like . . . Like a Phoenix.)

* * *

They’d been traveling South East for a week, trying to avoid the dessertous, vast expanse of nothingness they could only just make out on the horizon, but that Aang swore up and down was there.

“There’s a mountain range between us, of course, but the dessert is there, and even on bison-back it takes forever to cross!” Aang had added, lounging against a portion of the saddle railing and watching Sokka try to chart where they were headed.

“Our next stop is —” here Sokka paused, eyes squinting in that way they tended to when he was trying to pronounce something correctly, “Gaoling?”

Zuko took a quick peek and subtly nodded to the water-tribe boy, who relaxed just subtly with the confirmation.

“Yeah! It was only a small settlement the last time I was in this area, same as another town more directly South. Ping? Ching? It was something like that.” Aang waved the words away in the next instant, turning around to focus on their path ahead, a hand reaching out to soothe of the fur of Appa’s shaggy head.

Zuko and Sokka both turned back towards the other’s in the saddle shortly after, and paused in unison to see Katara redoing Azula’s hair. Again. Seeming to sense - as only little sisters could - that they were being stared at, both girls glanced up at them and quirked a brow . . . At exactly the same time.

Sisters. Shuddering under their identical gaze, Zuko and Sokka quickly turned to do maintenance on their weapons, while Uncle took to humming a familiar-sounding song under his breath, his focus on a cup of tea he’d been carefully sipping since they took off that morning.

Below them was what promised to be a swamp, according to Iroh, who’d made vague comments about it not being a good idea to land anywhere near it. Aang had given the strech of land a confused look - never a good sign - but agreed.

Only, they were going down, weren’t they? Sokka frowned and tilted his head at Zuko, across from him carefully sharpening one dao. The mountain range behind the fire bender definitely looked a little higher than it had an hour previous. Cautious, Sokka turned to lean over the saddle and . . .

“Aang! Why are you taking us down?” He asked, watching the disconcerting stretch of canopy creep closer.

Aang didn’t respond.

“Aang!” He shouted, and then Zuko shifted in the saddle and made a small clicking sound.

Dumpling sprung into motion where she’d been coiled up next to Zuko, and when he tilted his head at Aang, she leaped over and started grappling with the monk. Aang startled squawks and Momo’s alarmed screeching were good things, in Sokka’s mind.

“Hey! What gives!” Aang shouted, carefully shoving Dumpling back into the saddle.

Momo, who’d taken off from his perch in the Nomad’s lap the instant Dumpling attacked, landed back on the boy’s shoulders and started chittering angrily.

“You weren’t responding.” Zuko shrugged, giving Dumpling a series of good-girl scritches that she probably didn’t deserve, but that Sokka wasn’t going to tell her she didn’t deserve, and Sokka waved a hand towards the still-growing-closer swamp.

“Why are we going down?” He emphasized.

Aang swung back around and then clicked the reins, a soft yip leaving his mouth before he glanced back at them with a confused frown.

“Sorry guys. I felt . . . Like something was calling to me.” He explained softly.

Sokka did not like the sound of that at all.

“Something like what?” He asked.

Aangs confused shrug was enough of an answer. Apparently for all of them.

“Bring us higher, Aang.” Katara called, shoving away the grooming tools she used to do hair. Azula was very pointedly ignoring them all to flick her hair over her shoulders experimentally, seemingly enjoying the sound the beads made when they clinked together.

“Right. Sorry swamp!” Aang called, and before Sokka could point out that telling a sentient place you were ignoring its orders to land was a bad idea, the wind started to pick up.

Aang tensed even further ahead of them. Then—

“There’s a tornado behind us!” Katara called, just as the wind suddenly started dragging Appa back. Sokka yelped, Zuko grabbed onto one side of the saddle and reached for Azula, at the same time she went scrambling towards him and then—

They were jerked, first in one direction and then another—

All of them were hanging out of the saddle—

His hand slipped from the rim, and he was falling, air whooshing past him in the most terrifying way—

Claws and feathers and familiar, worried coo, and he stopped falling a little bit, only he was way too big for Noodle to carry—

He shoved the King Serval away before those tree branches he could see coming could hurt the animal he’d helped nurse back to health—

All the tree branches he hit on his way down owed him a new spine—

He crashed into slimy, sludgy water and scrambled to stand and not-be-submerged, thanks, his breaths coming harsh and his bones aching. When he opened his eyes, he was alone, but not for long. A harsh, heavy weight hit his shoulders and he was back in the disgusting water.

Thankfully, two warm hands were pulling him out of it again.

“Are you alright, Nephew?” Iroh asked, and Sokka started trying to flick the muck from his face, waiting for Zuko to answer.

“Nephew?” Iroh asked again, slowly, and one of his large hands was helping to wipe away the swamp-goo.

Sokka managed to blink open his eyes and realized, disconcertedly, that Zuko was almost two meters away from them, perched on an exposed root and glaring at the canopy.

“Nephew, are you alright?”Iroh asked again, forcing Sokka to look at him, and his warm bronze eyes were worried.

“Oh? Oh! Me!” Sokka declared, pointing at himself, and Iroh gave him another concerned look, then tugged his head down slightly to check it over.

“No, no I’m alright I just—” he stopped, felt his cheeks flush as he realized that now everyone was looking at him.

“It’s just, you’ve never called me that before?” He said slowly, and Iroh smiled a kind smile - an important distinction, since he had a wide range of smiles, unlike Azula.

Aang was suddenly there, dropping down from the trees, just as Katara called out, “Sokka, you’ve got an elbow-leech!”

While Sokka flailed over that, Aang settled in next to Zuko, perched on a root, and Azula slid down next to her brothers other side from . . . Somewhere. Actually, Sokka wasn’t sure where from, exactly.

“There’s no sign of Appa, Momo, or the Kits in the air.” Aang shared uneasily, and Sokka, still twitching from the pulling-sucking-sharpness of pulling an elbow-leech off himself, did a full-body jerk.

“Alright, then we should get moving. Can you tell where we . . . Got sucked into the tornado?” He asked, hesitating to use the words ‘attack-by-a-tornado.’

Aang shook his head despondently, and they all stared at each other. Finally, Sokka straightened his shoulders and peered up through the canopy, then down the trunks around them where the shadows were cast.

“It looks like the sunlight is coming from . . . That way,” he said slowly, letting Iroh help him onto a tree root before the older man followed after him, “We came from the west, going south-east.” He paused to look at Zuko and Iroh.

Azula ended up being the bender between them that stood and lifted her arms without thought, one pointing in the direction he’d gestured, the other pointing the opposite.

(Fire benders, he hadn’t known but now appreciated, could tell which direction Agni had started his ascent from, and which direction he would end it in. It was an inherent knowing, like most water-benders were apparently able to navigate the seas by stars alone. Katara had tried to learn how at the North, but quickly found she had no real understanding of it because their Spirit-Tales were different from the Souths.)

“Alright, then we head west, at least for a little while. If we can’t hear Dumpling crying within the hour, we turn back around and try East.” He offered.

Zuko scowled at him - probably for the Very True implication that his Dumpling whined - and everyone else chuckled, the small weight and stress of being boldly tossed from a saddle fading — if only slightly.

(Father had always said that a stressed group of hunters was the worst kind to try and deal with, that the easiest way to ease tension was finding something humorous and giving them a goal, all in one.)

Sokka slipped his Machete out, and then started forward, and Aang, naive, sweet, too-soft Aang, voiced his first complaint.

“Sokka, maybe we should be nicer to the trees.”

Sokka sent him a dry look over his shoulder, then reached out to pat the nearest trunk.

“Hey there, I’m sorry, but you’re in my way. You understand, right?” He called loudly, then swung his machete again.

He could feel Aang’s irritated look even with his back turned.

(Had he perhaps taken a moment to focus more on who he was traveling with, to remember the Panda Spirit that had swallowed him whole, he might have taken Aang’s words more seriously. As it was - Sokka was more focused on the stiffness in his hip that didn’t feel quite right, and the fact that they were separated from the only means of transport out of the swamp.)

* * *

With night came a far more foreboding feeling, the drifting daylight no longer there to act as a filter between them and whatever was wrong with the swamp. Because there was something wrong with the swamp. Zuko couldn’t place what, exactly, was wrong with it, but there was something that simply didn’t . . . Connect. Something between them and it that was all off.

The sunlight, for instance. It felt . . . Disconnected. Agni’s gaze just a little too far to the left, as if it was continually sliding over them. Uncle looked just as bothered, his eyes occasionally drifting up to the canopy around them with a thoughtful frown.

“Sokka,” Zuko chimed in during the seventh - or was that dozenth? - argument between his Southern brother and Aang, “I think maybe we should listen to Aang.” He said slowly, frowning at the swamp around them.

They’d finally stopped on a stretch of land that seemed dry enough, and far enough from the water, that they probably weren’t at risk of waking up with an elbow-leech or five. Sokka sent him an exasperated look, his machete raised to chop a bit of fire-wood from the nearest series of branches.

“I don’t know what you two are so concerned about,” he said, chopping off a chunk and then bringing it towards them, his expression set in a way that Zuko knew meant a losing battle for the rest of them, “it’s just a swamp!”

Zuko felt like pointing out that he’d thought the fish at the North Pole were just fish too, but that would be a low-blow, since Aang was still having the odd nightmare about them. Instead, he quirked his only eyebrow and smirked.

“Panda Spirit.” Was all he said.

Sokka stilled in the middle of eyeing another series of overhanging branches, probably thinking of using them for additional kindling. The glare he got for the reminder was more than worth it, in Zuko’s mind.

“Low blow, Prince Jerk-bender.” Sokka grumbled, but notably did not go to cut more kindling.

Aang only seemed more anxious, not less, with the resolution, his wide grey eyes flickering over the darkening trees around them.

“Why don’t we just try to sleep and continue on in the morning? We’re headed back, right?” Aang offered, shuffling a little closer to Katara and Uncle.

Zuko nodded in affirmation, taking his own seat on Sokka’s free side and lifting his arm. Azula slipped into his personal space and curled into him, looking decidedly unimpressed with everything around them.

“What’s a Panda Spirit?” She asked.

While Sokka sputtered, Zuko laughed, and Aang, ever eager to tell a story, started recounting it, probably in the best way possible for Azula.

“Alright, so I know you don’t believe in spirits, but there was this Magic Panda that got really angry when—”

(And still, Zuko could feel something off, something that stroked over the back of his neck and poked at his mind, something that wandered over all his secrets and truths. He really disliked this swamp.)

* * *

The swamp attacked them. Aang knew it had been going to happen, because Sokka had been extra stubborn, but it was still terrifying. A vine wrapped tight around his ankle and drug him away from Uncle Iroh and Katara, towards the murky darkness of the spongey forest floor. Getting away was a struggle, involving a lot of creative air bending and hard leaps he hadn’t been prepared to make while half-awake.

He couldn’t find the others. Something was still calling to him, a song in the back of his mind that tired to pull, tried to show, tried to draw. Aang fought it because Spirits never gave anything for free.

Then he saw the girl and the flying boar, and despite all his best intentions, the song drew him in.

(Closer-closer-closer. Look what I have to show. Come see, little Nomad.)

****

Sokka was flung from the rest of the group by a twisting, grabby vine that was alive, and he had never regretted his life choices as much as he did then. Being air-born again was the worst feeling, and lending in more swamp-goo was terrible. But then, so was being followed and attacked by twisting vines that just wouldn’t stop until he was well and truly lost.

“Katara! Aang! Zuko!” He called, when he was sure the vine were no longer reaching, no longer grabbing-dragging-constricting.

“Uncle! Azula!” He continued, carefully slipping over and under and around root-shaped obstacles.

(Sokka might make dumb choices, but he only ever made them once, thank you very much. This was the last time he ever wanted to be stuck in a magic swamp.)

“Sokka?” Someone called, and he swung towards the sound.

“Katara?” He called back, hopeful.

A few more steps and around a bend in the tree, and there was a blindingly bright pool in front of him, several figures with their back turned to him standing in the waters.

Sokka froze, staring. His father’s face, pale and gaunt and icy, as if he’d been sunk into the waves and frozen in time.

“You were supposed to protect the village, Sokka.” He chided, soft and stern, in the way he’d always been.

Another of the figures turned and Sokka felt his heart drop.

(Soot that stained his skin and sank into his hair. He’d had to scrub so hard to get the smell of it out, even weeks after there had been blood in the snow and bodies scattered.)

One of the warrior women stared back, face blurry, and streaked with grey tears.

“You forgot us.” Her voice whispered, disjointed, and echoing.

Sokka scrambled back and tripped, and when he looked again, panicked and breathing too hard, they were gone. The pool was just a pool, and his fears-memories-nightmares were once again in his head.

“Tui and La,” he whispered-choked-cried, his throat tight and his mind a whirl.

“Tui and La, I’m sorry.” He whispered.

****

Azula stared at the blank, placid smile on Mother’s face, the unhealthy gleam in Father’s eyes, and the scowl of Grandfather’s lips.

“You’re not real. Half of you are dead. One of you is going to be dead _soon_. Go away.” She ordered, then walked through them.

The had no substance and touched nothing around her. Azula flipped her hair over her shoulder again - no, she was not doing that just to hear the beads clink, that would be common - and straightened her tunic with a small tug.

“What about me, Chosen? Am I real?” Something whispered, and was followed by the click-click-clack of many-moving-limbs.

Azula turned in the shallow water and looked at the magic insect that called itself Koh.

“Whose to say? Maybe you might be, if you showed me where that stupid-furry monster is.” She shrugged.

Koh laughed and his body twisted-twirled down from the tree he’d perched on, his many limbs clicking-clicking-clicking.

“Come child. I’ll give you the proof you always need.” He offered, and one mandible-limb gestured to his shell.

Azula gave him a long look, which made him laugh - not what her intention had been - before she sniffed and imperially perched herself along his spine.

“I’m waiting.” She ordered.

While Koh laughed, Azula snuck a glance back.

Mother was still standing there, still staring at her with a too-polite smile, eyes distant and disconcerted. Behind her, Myong stepped out of the shadows and smiled her special smile. Azula smiled back, since this Myong wasn’t real and wouldn’t know, and she turned away again.

“Is the stupid swamp showing everyone things?” She asked out loud.

Koh’s laugh was as much an answer as she was likely to get.

****

She’d been wandering a little aimlessly since managing to slice her way away from the spirit-possessed vines, but now Katara stared at the distant outline of a person and picked up speed. No, wait, there were two - five? She stopped smiling half-way there, slowing down.

“Mom?” She asked, slow and unsteady.

“Dad?” She wobbled on her feet.

Dad’s form was stiff and lifeless, even from the angle he stood at. Frozen. His crew stood around him. Also frozen.

(They had never found out, if Father’s crew and his people were still alive and out there, fighting, or if they’d been sunk just past their home. Zuko and Iroh hadn’t known. None of them had known.)

Mom turned and her face was set in a soft, determined smile. That same smile she’d given, when a man in red stood above her and smiled a darker, colder kind of smile.

(Ash stained Sokka’s paler cheeks, he wouldn’t let her see what was beyond the hut’s. She was screaming for Dad, and Sokka was crying. The snow fell black around them.)

“Go find your father, Katara.” She ordered.

Katara felt her heart drop out her feet, and turned to expel yesterdays breakfast into the nearest bush. When she finally had the strength to stand, Father and his crew were gone, as was Mother, but the pain remained.

(‘Go find your father, Katara.’ Mom had smiled, and Katara had turned to run, because that stranger in red had not looked kind. She had run and run, but it hadn’t been fast enough.)

****

Zuko jumped from one branch to the next, would have kept jumping while he looked for everyone else - while he tried not to panic over what Azula might do, if left alone long enough - if it hadn’t been for the flash of gold. He’d been extra alert since the vines had come to life and drug him away from Azula, flinging him far into the swamp and then chasing him. He turned mid-jump and just barely managed to grab hold of a vine, swinging down to where he’d seen the flash of color.

A figure stood, with their back turned to him, but he would know those robes anywhere. Hesitant, because this didn’t feel any-more safe than the swamp as a whole, he approached.

“Mother?” He called softly.

The woman that turned and frowned at him in slight disapproval certainly could have been his mother. Could-have-been, if there wasn’t something off about her.

“Don’t blame yourself.” The woman said, low and soothing, just like Ursa used to.

Zuko’s attention flickered when another figure stepped out of the shadows behind her. This one had him freezing.

“It’s what I want, you know.” Lu Ten started, smile just slightly . . . Not right.

“What?” Zuko asked, edging away from them both.

“I want Father to love you like he loved me. You don’t need to feel guilty.” Lu Ten continued, so simply smashing all of the carefully constructed walls Zuko had built up against such thoughts.

“Just as you shouldn’t feel guilty for Iroh loving you, you shouldn’t feel guilty over me, Zuko.” Mother chided.

(There was still something so wrong.)

Zuko took another step back and scowled, his heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest.

“You can’t avoid it forever, Zuko,” Lu Ten said, taking a step closer for every step he took away, “you need to face these doubts before you can ever hope to do your people proud.”

Zuko turned away before they could say anymore, his mind abuzz with thoughts he’d promised himself were for after.

(After Ozai was defeated, after the Fire Nation was set to rights, after the war was an unhappy memory.)

Zuko ran. He was very good at singular tasks.

****

Iroh had been careful, while fighting the vines, not to burn anything, but he was concerned he might have. Especially when he’d been forced to watch them fling Azula and Zuko apart, his nephew being tossed like a weightless bag of swallow-spider silk, his niece being flung and rolled away like a doll. He’d hesitated only briefly before turning towards Azula.

(Zuko had proven that, if nothing else, his first concern when it came to Azula would always be her presence. She would be the first among them he sought out. Besides - Iroh shuddered to think what might happen to such a Spirit-heavy swamp if Azula was left alone inside it too long.)

Unfortunately, the swamp seemed to want them apart very badly, because Iroh kept stumbling back onto the same large root, which lead into the same, shallow pond, sparkling and brilliant in Agni’s light.

“I sincerely hope you are watching after him,” he muttered to his Diety, his eyes scanning the heavy trees for any sign of Azula.

A small warmth that was slightly disconnected over his shoulders. It was answer enough. The next time Iroh looked down, he was startled. His nephew crouched by the shallow pond below.

“Zuko!” He called, worried. Zuko would not have remained quiet if he’d seen him.

Then, of course, his nephew turned, and the figure crouch beside him took shape and Iroh felt his mind stutter to a halt, his heart shatter.

(Two boys laughing as they playing in the sands, one of them had her eyes, and the other, he was touched by Agni’s Grace, an inherent warmth that Ozai couldn’t stand but that Iroh loved to feel.)

Zuko’s face was scarless when he looked up, and he was suddenly the boy who’d crouched in front of a man and begged.

(‘I am your loyal son! I cannot harm Agni’s chosen.’)

“You could have protected me.” Zuko whispered, voice breaking and gleaming, molten eyes glassy.

Lu Ten, quiet and crouched behind him, glared.

“You weren’t where you should have been!” He accused.

Both boys were correct.

“You looked away.” Zuko whispered, and the skin over his left eye began to flake and curl.

(He had screamed, this child. Screamed and begged and Iroh had not been able to bear witness with hungry eyes, like so many others.)

“I trusted you to be there!” Lu Ten shouted, standing stubborn and determined like he had when he insisted on being a part of the White Lotus.

(His boy, his child, born just right and with such little fuss. He’d cried like he should, been a good son, and given Iroh such joy.)

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, because it was the only thing he could say.

The skin over Zuko’s eye continued to wrinkle and burn away in slow motion.

“You won’t look away now.” Zuko whispered.

Iroh felt his knees give out.

He did not look away.

* * *

Aang ran full force, trying to catch up the laughing, cackling girl that had lead him on a wild lizard-goose chase, and he realized too late that he was heading straight for Katara. They collided in a splay of limbs and hurts, and somehow picked up more bodies along the way, until they all ended up sprawled over a large root that lead down.

Zuko forcefully shoved himself away, looking panicked and hurt, but before he could start shouting, they heard the soft, soft sound of someone crying. It took only a moment of hushing before they were all scrambling up and towards the slope of the root.

Uncle Iroh sat at the bottom, sobbing into his hands. Aang is pretty sure he’d never moved so quickly in his life, second only to Zuko, who was frantically checking the older man over, as much as he could.

(Iroh was clinging to him, apologizing, looking so uncharacteristically hurt-angry-sad.)

Aang ended up hugging them both tight, hoping that somehow that would help. Two more sets of arms joined them, and Katara started humming a song Aang was only just starting to recognize.

She’d been teaching it to Azula, while she did the girl's hair, or took her turn cooking while Azula kicked Zuko to the side and passed over spices or supplies, fake-disinterest in the Princesses eyes. It took a little bit longer for Iroh to calm, and a little more to get him back onto the root.

“I — I was chasing some girl in a fancy dress. Did you guys see something?” Aang asked, wringing his hands and eyeing Iroh’s sad-distant eyes.

“I saw M-Mom. And Dad and his crew.” Katara offered, pale and sick looking.

Sokka’s hand clenched over Katara’s and for the first time, Aang noticed they’d been clinging to each other since they let go of Iroh and started herding him up the root.

“I saw — I—” Sokka stopped and shook his head, hand squeezing Katara’s.

“I saw my Mother. And —” Zuko stopped, eyes flickering to Iroh and then away, “and she said some things that didn’t make sense.” He finished lamely, clearly lying.

(Aang made another mental note about teaching Zuko to lie better. Again. One of these lessons was bound to stick.)

Iroh said nothing about what he saw, and none of them pushed. Instead, Zuko stiffened and turned in a quick circle.

“Where’s Azula?” He asked.

They didn’t have much opportunity to respond before a giant vine monster with a face was attacking them. Zuko had to devote himself to basic support, standing protectively in front of Iroh, who looked like he both wanted to help, but couldn’t find the energy to do so. It took them second-minutes-hours to finally beat the vine-monster and figure out it was a person, and by then, Aang felt no shame in admitting he was steamed.

“Why did you call us here if you’re only trying to hurt us!” He shouted.

The man across from him paused and gave him a confused look.

“I didn’t call you here.” He defended.

The confusing, frustrating explanation that followed was nice and all, but he also really could have done without the swamp dragging them in to begin with. Uncle Iroh still looked listless, Zuko was the angriest-saddest Aang had seen him since they first met, and he’d never seen Sokka so at a loss for words.

“So the girl . . . She’d someone I will meet?” Aang asked slowly, and the man in front of them nodded.

Aang stood before any more could be said. They needed to find Appa and the other critters and leave now, before he broke his calm streak. Figuring out how to use the swamp to do so would have been neater if the swamp itself hadn’t been so rude to his family. He got a general sense of direction for Appa . . . And was hardly surprised when he sensed Azula there as well.

“Come on,” he muttered, reaching down to help Zuko get Iroh up, “Azula is with Appa, and she’s terrorizing a bunch of people.”

Zuko gave him a confused look, but the man behind him made an alarmed sound.

(The small parts of him that were learning to be vindictive felt that after everything, he definitely deserved some alarm, at the very least.)

* * *

Azula stared down at the filthy little savages floating in their silly little boats - one of which she’d already sunk, through vicarious use of flames - and smiled.

“Still want to eat my fluffy monsters?” She asked in a bored drawl.

The men were looking at her with both confusion and calculation. Momo chittered angrily from where he was perched on a horn, and the King Serval siblings bared their fangs in a clear and obvious threat. Before a move could be made either way, Aang appeared, jumping from one branch to the next like silly Ty Lee, landing lightly on the rim of the saddle behind her.

“Stupid-face-Aang,” she greeted, smiling even wider down at the men below her, “about time you showed up.”

Aang carefully nudged Dumpling aside, and took up Appa’s reigns.

“Sorry. Was dealing with . . . Spirit things. We need to go.” The boy said lowly, his face all mushed up and wrong.

(She was having a hard time placing that emotion. He didn’t usually show it. She’d have to ask Zuzu. Speaking of.)

“Where’s my Dum-Dum?” She asked, clenching one fist in Appa’s fur and the other over Dumpling, who’d half crawled into Azula’s lap and continued growling impressively.

“With Uncle,” Aang said.

The tone of his voice was all wrong when he spoke about Uncle Iroh. Azula wondered what the swamp had shown him, that something could be wrong with him. The filthy savages below didn’t try to stop them, and for reasons beyond her, Aang apologized as they were leaving, Appa’s big body slowly drifting over them.

(She understood, when she saw Uncle, why Aang’s face had been all mushed up. He looked listless and . . . Sad? She was fairly certain that was his sad face. Though it might be his hungry face. She’d have to check.)

“I don’t ever want to come back here.” Sokka declared, glaring at the swamp they were leaving behind.

Azula thought of the visage of Ursa’s calm, polite smile and frowned.

“That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you say.” She declared, leaning against Zuko.

His arm slipped over her shoulders and squeezed. She wondered if he’d seen mother too. Probably - though Ursa had likely had more to say to her favorite child.

* * *

Somewhere in Gaoling, a rumble in the Earth woke Toph Bei Fong, and she smiled a smirk only the Earth and one other human had ever seen. She rolled out of bed, already half-dressed in her combat gear, and planted her feet softly on smooth stone.

“Thanks for the wake-up.” She whispered, soothing a callused hand over the space in front of her.

Dabogong’s crust rumbled again, a brush against all her senses. There was a waiting to his touch, an anticipation. She figured he was just as eager for her to win the title again as she was. Smiling a toothy smile, Toph Bei Fong finished dressing with smooth efficiency, having long grown used to the necessity doing this own her own.

(None of her Nanny’s lasted long anymore, and she didn’t bother getting to know them. She also didn’t bother remembering the things they blathered on about.)

She slipped into the Earth and her truest home, and did not notice that the strings of fate were already tangling around her feet.

* * *

They stopped just north of a small town. It was an unplanned stop, but it was necessary because Iroh was still down and out from whatever he’d seen in the swamp, and Sokka wanted to have extra supplies before the hit the sure to be bustling province town of Gaoling. They spent the first-day camping simply trying to get used to the area, keeping a careful eye on Iroh’s moods.

(And Sokka pretended not to notice the way that Aang was keeping just as careful an eye on him and Katara.)

They had a slight problem with a handful of Fire Nation soldiers that Zuko claimed were a rouge unit, one that tended to take mercenary commissions from Naval officers and Platoon officers alike. Iroh took exception to their presence, and more, the short bout seemed to act as a sort of . . . Therapy.

Sokka and Aang mostly stood off to the side, watching wide-eyed as Iroh, with Zuko and Azula defending his flanks, worked through his issues a little more aggressively than usual, and Katara took to making sure all the fires got put out.

Uncle still didn’t seem . . . Okay, but he at least moved around and spoke to them, and agreed to go into town, all things he hadn’t been willing to do before they were attacked.

“Should we . . . Uh . . . Just leave them here?” Aang asked, motioning to the splayed soldiers around them.

Iroh stared long and hard at one of them, before he nodded curtly.

“It is not our place to judge them now.” He said simply.

Sokka helped everyone finish packing up, and they moved on, and thankfully, Iroh seemed to improve slowly.

(Well, less improving and more . . . Making himself get over it. Whatever it was. Sokka was both curious, and absolutely didn’t want to know.)

They did a resupply run in Chin - which, was the strangest village they’d visited to date, and that was including all those crazy people that believed in fortune-telling - where they had to drag Katara away before she did something monumentally stupid but justified.

“You can’t make everyone like the Avatar — it would make you the same as the Fire Lord, trying to make everyone believe in his version of a good life.” Sokka reminded her softly, and ended up winning that particular argument because she really couldn’t find fault in his logic.

They moved on — Next stop, Gaoling.

(And hopefully, there would be no more unsettling visions and memories and nightmares along the way.)


	24. Find your place (In this world of things)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, Toph and Zuko's portions were really fighting me. I don't even know why, I love them they're both great, but the problem has been fixed now, so. GUESS WHO'S FINALLY HERE!!
> 
> Sorry if the pace seems a little off? I was having trouble writing some of the dialogue because this Toph and Canon Toph aren't exactly one and the same, and more, Zuko and Toph, while they have FANTASTIC buddy energy, are only baby buddies right now.  
Ya'll real quick, I haven't checked the wording/grammar/spelling, so if you see something that screams for attention, do a quick shout-out? Not necessary at all, but always appreciated!

It took four-and-a-half days to get to Gaoling from Chin. Aang was contemplating how he was going to break it to Sokka that his carefully planned time-table would no longer work, given the new amount of weight that Appa was carrying. It wasn’t like they were overloaded, but it also wasn’t like Appa’s current saddle was built with extra passengers in mind.

(He was really kicking himself for not looking for any blueprints while they were in the Northern Temples. He could have had Teo and his father working on one, and they could have gone back for it. It was alright though; Hindsight was a golden zenny. Did people still use zennies?)

“Hey, Aang, look!” Katara called, and he glanced back.

She was pointing down, towards the ridge beneath them they had been carefully circling. Azula was giving whatever she was pointing at a thoughtful frown, while Noodle and Dumpling chittered to each-other curiously. Aang glanced down too, and eyed the flat bit of ridge-line thoughtfully. It was a conceivable distance from Gaoling, not anything that wouldn’t be terrible to walk, and still in range of the Bison Whistle.

“Thanks!” Aang called, then gave a gentle tug to the reins. Appa responded to the small tugs as he always did, tilting his head down curiously. He must have spotted the flat ridge piece all on his own, because they started towards it, and Aang beamed a smile down at his companion, running a soothing hand over his furry head.

(The kits jumped off the saddle and started circling down at a faster pace, clearly intent on investigating the area that Appa was going to land. They’d taken to doing that after the swamp, and Aang couldn’t puzzle out why, except that they might be concerned about more natives trying to hunt and eat Appa. Aang had not been happy when Azula had shared that tidbit.)

Appa always had been the smartest Bison he’d ever met. Gyatso used to joke that it was because Aang treated him like he was another person. Really, Appa had always had a personality all his own, and Aang had simply been responding to it.

“Nice landing buddy!” He called, floating down and giving Appa’s stubby snout a scratching rub.

Appa yawned and rumbled a sound that could only mean ‘hungry,’ and Aang obligingly twirled his staff around, watching patiently as Zuko and Sokka got to removing all the supplies. They’d started taking the saddle off because it was giving Appa a rash, and Aang knew he’d have to broach the subject of a new saddle to fit more people, and also recommend a change to Sokka’s meticulous time-line.

He started to bounce on his feet at the very thought, a little anxious. Sokka didn’t like reworking things. Aang wasn’t sure why, since calculations seemed so easy for him, but he didn’t like the idea of making Sokka upset.

(Not when there were still dark circles under his eyes and a touch of the swamps spirit magic that Aang just couldn’t get rid of. Iroh and Sokka had been hit the hardest by what they’d seen. Katara . . . Katara was fighting it on her own, somehow. Probably because she was the most stubborn girl Aang had ever met. Well . . . )

His eyes flickered to where Katara and Iroh were setting up a stone circle for the campfire, to Azula, lounging against the cooking supplies and watching. Azula had told them what she’d seen in the swamp.

(‘Just a bunch of faces that weren’t really there and didn’t matter. Oh, and Koh. He showed me where Appa was.’ Aang had been checking, but she didn’t seem hurt, and she was absolutely the least bothered by the swamp, even if she admitted she hadn’t liked it.)

“Aang,” Zuko called, soft and quiet, and he whipped around, “it’s ready.” He offered, eyes watchful.

Aang smiled in response, grateful for the dedication everyone else had taken to with Appa’s saddle.

“Thanks guys!” He chirped, then carefully mounted Appa’s head and just as carefully bent the saddle up and off.

He scrambled around Appa’s back, checking the places the saddle had rested. There was loose fur galore. Zuko handed him a carved wooden comb, wide toothed and rough — something both Zuko and Sokka had collaborated on, when Aang first pointed out the rash and the loose hair. While Sokka wandered off to try his hand at hunting the local fauna, Aang and Zuko worked to make sure all the loose fur was brushed off.

“We should see what it would take to get someone to make a new saddle for him.” Zuko suddenly announced.

Aang jumped and gave the other boy a wide-eyed look.

“Really?” He asked.

Zuko nodded back seriously, helping to shove all the fur they’d taken off into an empty sack.

(Katara had declared the fur would be going on her and Sokka’s next parkas. Aang had not wanted to fight the possessive gleam in her eyes.)

“Well, the current one isn’t working, right?” Zuko said slowly, soothing a hand over Appa’s side.

Aang twitched nervously and nodded.

“Yeah, well, it’s that and other things . . . ” he muttered nervously.

Zuko blinked at him in confusion, then seemed to understand without Aang getting a chance to explain.

“Oh, you mean the weight thing?” He asked and it was Aang’s turn to blink in confusion, “Sokka already knows Aang, stop stressing over it.”

Aang felt his shoulders sag and his eyes widen.

“You guys knew?” He sputtered.

(Behind, he could hear the distinctive snuffle-trudge of Appa looking for something edible, while Momo chittered excitedly and the Kits chittered back.)

Zuko shrugged, bringing the bag of fur towards the half set-up camp.

“Sokka noticed we were slower than usual, and then that you always seemed on the brink of saying something, and that you’d always look at him before you said anything and, well . . . Sokka is really smart, Aang.” Zuko ended, stating the last softly, and definitly as a reminder, and Aang slumped.

“I just didn’t want to stress him.” Aang whispered.

“And by doing so, you stressed yourself.” Iroh chided, and Aang gave a shaky smile.

Zuko and Katara argued over who would make dinner, and Katara won when Sokka wandered back with a meerkat-rabbit in hand.

(Zuko and Aang both very pointedly could not look at the animal as Sokka was skinning it, choosing instead to tag-team a design for a new saddle.)

Overall . . . Overall it was the most restful day they’d had since before the Secret Tunnel to Omashu.

“Resupply tomorrow?” Sokka asked at some point, his eyes tired and heavy looking, and focused on Goaling below them.

“Yeah. Resupply tomorrow.” Aang agreed with a yawn.

Appa settled somewhere behind him, and Aang wandered towards him, curling up on-top of a paw and under his chin. Blessedly, they dreamed no dreams.

* * *

Gaoling was weird. Unlike the other townships they’d been to, there was no trace of a military presence, or the war. There were some guards, sure, but no military. Not that Zuko was complaining about the lack of military presence — he just found it weird.

“It’s pricey . . . But I like it.” Sokka mused, staring hard at the bag in front of him.

“Then get it. You need a new one.” Katara offered, eyeing the torn, falling apart bag Sokka was currently using.

Zuko contemplated that Sokka’s current bag was only held together through sheer luck and some sort of spirit blessing. Dumpling chose that moment to stetch onto her hind-legs and scratch at said bag, nose snuffling for the seal-jerky Sokka carried and Dumpling loved to steal. Zuko’s internal point was proven when claws came out and Sokka yelp, yet the bag remained in-tact. Definitely some sort of Spirit-Blessing.

(And no small amount of Katara’s crafty, quick patchwork. This was probably the real reason she was encouraging her brother to buy it.)

“It matches your tunic,” Uncle offered, smiling softly for the first time in what felt like forever.

Zuko found that to be his que, and sighed long and loud, turning away from them all to wander back out the corner stall. Azula’s hand anchored itself onto a knot in his sash, and he adjusted his steps to accommodate her. Aang joined them shortly after, smiling faintly, and Zuko found himself adjusting first the Nomad’s conical hat, then Azula’s. He then dropped his free hand onto Dumpling’s head and scritched.

(Getting his sister to wear the hat had been one of the hardest things they’d done since she scrambled up to join them. It was only him pointing out that her face might be recognizable, since they had no idea if Gaoling was a colony town before they wandered into it. It was the same reason he and Aang wore one.)

Katara was suddenly by their side, sans Momo, looking the definition of exasperated.

“They’re shopping.” she declared.

Zuko might have opened his mouth to shout over how she shouldn’t have left them alone when she held up a hand, where their money sat. That bag quickly got disappeared to . . . Somewhere. Zuko snapped his mouth shut and nodded in approval.

“They have a budget, and we are walking away now.” Katara declared, smiling slightly, and got no objections, though before they could turn to locate booths for what they actually needed, there was a slightly grubby - though somehow clean - man sliding up to Aang.

Zuko’s hands twitched to feel the weight of his swords, but he repressed the urge as the man in front of them started waving a small papyrus with carefully printed information, grinning what was probably considered a friendly grin, but looked shifty.

“You like Earth bending? Like chucking rocks? Check out Master Yu!” He encouraged, then seemed to spot other likely targets and wandered off.

Zuko, Katara and Aang stared at the paper, then each other. Azula stared after the man that had given it to them with a frown.

“There’s a coupon on the back — first lesson is free.” Aang declared, and they stared some more.

“What could it hurt?” Katara started, and Zuko shrugged.

“It does seem a little odd that we’re looking for an Earth bending master and someone hands you a coupon for an Earth bending class.” He mused.

If Azula hadn’t been looking at them with a slightly quirked eyebrow, he would have added that it almost seemed like a Spirit-Touch was at play.

(As it was, she still hadn’t taken her hand from his sash, and actually looked comfortable standing with them for once.)

“I guess,” Aang agreed, though he looked skeptical, his eyes tracing over the smiling face depicted on the back.

Sokka and Iroh stepped up to them, Sokka with his new bag slung over a shoulder, all of his things clearly and hastily stuff into it. Iroh had a conical hat that had been dyed green in his hands, a golden dragon curling around the top of it. Zuko found himself immensely glad that Katara had given them a budget.

* * *

While they were waiting for Aang’s first lesson to be over, Katara watched as Zuko bought himself and Azula a couple of the sweetened buns being sold at a stall, and they all sat down to watch the game of Weiqi that Iroh and Sokka had started. (Apparently, they’d had enough money left over to buy a small travel board, the stones a colorful green and yellow.) Dumpling had imperiously chosen to perch herself in front of them, curled up but clearly watching the passer-byes with distinct distrust.

(She was definitely picking up Zuko’s habits.)

It was nearly five hours later that Aang stumbled out, looking dusty and distinctly unimpressed.

“He’s not the one — he only listens to money.” Aang griped.

Katara gave him what she thought was an appropriately apologetic look, but before they could decide what to do next, another pair of slightly older students walked past, talking loudly and excitedly.

“—the Boulder is definitely gonna win the Belt back this upcoming Earth Rumble!” One of them exclaimed.

“Ha! He’s gonna have to fight his way through the best Earth benders around to even see the Champ first — and what do you mean get it back? He held it for like, a season at most!” The other responded.

Aang’s expression went first thoughtful, and then excited, and Katara sighed as she watched his ‘I have a brilliant idea,’ smile flickered over his face. That smile never boded well. Something always ended up happening to make what might have been a good idea into a very bad idea.

“Excuse me,” he called, hurrying after them, and Sokka and Iroh both pasued in their game, everyone’s focus shifting to the odler teens, and the semi-aggressive stance they took as Aang approached.

(She still couldn’t figure out why some people were immediately hostile, and others were relatively nice.)

“Where is this Earth Rumble tournament exactly?” Aang asked, all happy smiles and polite interest and slightly bouncing feet.

The boys stared at him hard and responded with ugly smirks.

“It’s on the Island of Nonoya—” one started, smirk growing.

“None O’ Ya business!” The other finished, and they pounded their fists together before they walked away.

Katara grit her teeth and stood, even before Aang had fully finished turning to them dejectedly. Azula slipped from her spot with Zuko, half a bun still in her hands, and they walked past Aang smiling the special smile Azula had mastered and shared.

“Don’t worry, we’ll handle this,” Katara cooed, patting at Aang’s shoulder as they past.

She could hear Zuko mumbling something under his breath as they walked, but her targets were disappearing out of sight, and she and Azula had a mission.

“No Fire bending, Little sister,” she reminded softly, then picked up pace, throwing a smile on.

“Hey strong guys! Wait up!”

(Sometimes it paid to be a girl.)

They did slow, and they did turn, and really, that was their mistake. So was their attitude when they spotted Azula with her.

“Hey, I was just wondering, about this Earth Rumble thing—” she started.

One of them rolled his eyes and snarked at her, his attention so very flippant that she nearly dropped her smile and grit her teeth.

“What’s a girl care about Earth Rumble for?” He asked.

Katara smiled, and Azula did too, and then she was shifting forwards, her feet sliding behind the first of them. Azula was already darting around underneath the second. Katara turned and flowed and moved, and the water from her water-skin did the same. The next thing they knew, they were horizontal and suspended a meter above the ground, heads pressed together and ice incasing them.

“I believe I asked you a very simple question.” She cooed, crouching down to smile at them some more.

Across from her, Azula was smirking, slowly popping a piece of her bun into her mouth.

“It’s this competition—”

“Idiot, don’t tell her! We can get out of this and when we do—”

“It takes twenty minutes to get frost-bitten, and that’s in the appropriate gear. If you’re lucky, when I let you out, you’ll still have your toes.” Katara corrected, nonchalantly accepting a piece of bun from Azula and nibbling on it.

“You were saying about the tournament?” Azula prompted, only slightly impatient and all amused.

“It’s a competition for the best benders in the area. It’s slightly illegal, but everyone looks the other way because it’s entertaining!” The first one squeal again, and she could see him shivering.

“It’s held every three-to-four weeks!” The other added, shivering just as much and staring wide-eyed at her.

“The next match is in three days, at the base of Ling Fai Mountain!” The first announced again.

Katara pulled out the map of the area she’d watched Sokka buy shortly after walking into Gaoling, and studied it. Azula’s free hand stretched out and she asked, soft and innocent and so polite, if it weren’t for the smile on her face, “You mean this mountain?”

The boys tried and failed to nod.

“And how do you get in? Do you have to pay?” Katara asked.

They tried to nod again.

Both girls smiled, and Azula scrambled underneath them, then they started to walk away.

“Hey, wait! You— you said—”

“You can’t just leave us like this!”

Katara glanced at them over her shoulder and smirked an ugly smirk.

“Who, me? What’s a girl like me got to do with bending?” She asked, and continued walking.

They rejoined the others with a spring in their steps and smiles on their faces.

“Who wants to go to Earth Rumble VI?” Katara asked.

(Both she and Azula ignored the suspicious look that Zuko and Sokka were giving them.)

“How’d you get them to tell you?” Aang asked.

Azula was the one to respond, batting her eyes lashes and adopting one of the (fakest) innocent looks Katara has ever seen.

“Girls have their ways, Stupid-Face.”

(They both pretended not to see Uncle Iroh slipping on past them, smiling a small smile. They also ignored the sound of smashing ice and blubbering boys. They had made their point.)

* * *

They spent the three days before Earth Rumble resupplying. Azula spent her time much more wisely — discovering whether there was a military presence in Gaoling or not. The most unsettling answer she’d come up with was that it was all private militia. Azula was extremely disconcerted by this answer, and so was Uncle, when she told him.

(They slipped into town at some point, and looked for any sign that the White Lotus had an agent in Gaoling. They needed reliable information about the area. They found nothing — but Azula could see the gears turning in Uncles head, and she found herself wondering what, exactly, he was thinking about. Had been wondering as much ever since those first days after the swamp, when he released all his feelings in an act of physical violence.)

Regardless, they could relax slightly, if there was nothing but hired muscle in this township. No military force meant that Fire Nation forces had, for whatever reason, been ignoring it.

“It’s odd, don’t you think? This place is close enough to the coast that you’d know it was there, from one of the battle-class ships. It’s far enough from the Line that our forces wouldn’t run into Badger-mole shaped problems. What keeps them away?” Azula asked lazily, lounging by the fire and staring at the distant shape of Gaoling.

Uncle frowned into his tea, his expression troubled.

“There are many reasons the Fire Nation may be staying away from Gaoling.” He said slowly.

Sokka stared at Uncle hard, and Azula could almost see the splintering thought-roads in his head, his mind keen enough to read the many nuances behind Uncles words.

“We should maintain caution.” He finally offered.

The rest of them all nodded, and Azula wondered if maintaining caution would be enough. Either way, she’d eventually get to burn something, so she shrugged and nodded along. It was deeply amusing to her that this seemed to make Zuzu as nervous as he would have been had she said something appropriately cryptic.

“The saddle should be done in the next couple days.” Aang reminded, smiling over at Appa’s stupid, fluffy face. Azula allowed the change in topic, because he was one of those people that didn’t understand her need to set things that irritated her on fire.

* * *

The ring was exactly what Katara had speculated it might be, but so much better — Sokka loved it. The smell of sweat and earth and the sounds of people trying their level best to beat the arctic-hen out of each other. Sokka was nearly bouncing in excitement, seated between Aang and Zuko, and clutching a heavy papyrus bag full of sticky, greasy buns in one hand, a cup of tea in the other.

They had shuffled around the ring before they settled near the front - nearly getting hit by a boulder in the process. Azula and Katara looked decidedly uninterested, but that was okay, because Sokka was excited enough for everyone!

“This is just going to be a bunch of guys chucking rocks at each other, isn’t it?” Katara asked, leaning her chin in one hand and staring blandly at the ring.

“That’s definitely what I paid for!” Sokka declared.

Aang and Katara shared a look, and Zuko shifted next to him, eyeing the half of the ring he could see. Honestly. Was Sokka the only one that knew how to enjoy himself?

The matches were exactly what he expected them to be. Big, muscley men all chucking rocks at each other and being louder-than-life stage-men. They responded to the roar of the crowd, chaotic energy all bundled up in flesh that could break stone and hurl rocks with a few well-placed steps.

(In the back corner of his mind, Sokka admitted to just himself that if he could choose an element to bend, he’d want to be an Earth bender. They seemed much more grounded than the other elements. Of course, he wasn’t a bender, so this was a moot point.)

Then, after The Boulder - who had the most entertaining stage presence Sokka had seen thus far - had crushed his final opponent, the crowd quieted with excitement.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Xin Fu started, his long hair drifting as he shifted forward, and the center of the ring started to slide aside. A platform was rising up, and the lights they had around the ring caught the glint of heavy gold.

“The Champion of Earth Rumble - the Blind Bandit!”

The crowd roared in excitement, and a young boy was suddenly standing there, tiny and slim in the lights, draped in a heavy green cape and hoisting a fancy looking belt above his head.

(There was something wrong with the image though. His brain was poke and prodding at it almost as soon as he caught sight of the small hands holding the belt up.)

“The winner for the last five seasons, today will determine if his streak is about to run out!” Xin Fu continued.

Katara leaned forward and frowned, her eyes sharp. Azula was the first to say something.

“That’s a girl, isn’t it?”

Sokka started and then really looked at all the things his brain told him weren’t right.

(The shape of her face, and way her clothing was baggy, but not enough to hide the form of her hips. In a few more years, other people wouldn’t be able to overlook that. Her hands were slim, even from this distance, not blunted or rough looking.)

“Oh, yeah, it is.” He mused, then smiled. “But she’s still going down to Boulder Town!” He whooped.

Katara sighed and then reached over to pinch him, just as Aang and Uncle both gave him a reproachful look. Zuko merely turned to roll his one good eye at Sokka. He continued to smile, unrepentant, because this was all in good fun, and he’d already decided he would find time later to marvel over a young girl apparently holding a title like ‘Earth Rumble Champ,’ for five seasons impressive.

Of course, the fight was nothing like he expected it to be. Mostly because it was over almost before it had really started. The girl moved like she could see, despite the fact that he was positive she was blind.

(She stood too still, her head tilted too much at every sound. Zuko did that if people stood on his left side, where his vision wasn’t so great.)

The girl cackled - a mad, hearty thing that sounded outright diabolical - and Aang perked up even more on his other side, leaning forward eagerly.

“How’d she do that?” Katara asked in awe, and he could already see she wanted to be able to do something similar.

“She waited —” Aang started, a slow smile building over his face and his wide grey eyes sparkling with a Bad Idea, “and she listened! That’s the girl from my vision! I need to talk to her!”

Aang bounced away from them before Sokka could make someone else ask him if he was having good ideas or bad ideas, and suddenly, it was the Avatar in the ring, smiling and happy and so stupidly bouncing on his feet. Sokka shrugged, still in the energy of things, and managed to go back to smiling.

“Avenge the Boulder!”

He shouted, standing up and whooping. Zuko pulled him back down, and Momo — who’d decided there was, in fact just enough room in Sokka’s new bag for him to be a passenger — chittered in disapproval.

“How is him fighting this girl supposed to endear him to her?” Azula asked, still looking bored beyond all reason.

Sokka waggled a finger in her direction and grinned.

“No negativity here!” He ordered, and then turned around again.

Aang was doing his Nomad-thing, avoiding danger and choosing retreat, and all those boring things he tends towards. Sokka felt no shame in admitting that he booed with the rest of the crowd. Then — then of course he did something that even Sokka, in his haze of excitement and entertainment-high, could tell wouldn’t go over well.

He beat the Blind Bandit with Air Bending. The girl went flying out of the ring, and the crowd roared in surprise, and Sokka winced.

“Yeah, alright, some negativity here!” Sokka declared, without looking at Azula’s smug I-told-you-so _smugness_, all of them watching the girl march away from the ring with tense shoulders.

“We probably should have contemplated how we’d approach the right Earth Bender before we came, huh?” Katara asked, and she looked contrite.

They could only nod mutely, and hurry over to wait for Aang to glumly accept the belt and the money and sigh his way towards them.

“Now what!” He groaned.

Well. That was the question, wasn’t it?

* * *

Toph rolled over and breathed the way she’d been taught, steady and even, no matter that her breathing wanted to hitch and her anger was a hot ball of fury in her gut. She’d lost. She’d lost —

(Soft words and a gentle voice, and lightly-callused hands that tucked her hair behind her ear.)

She’d lost _their_ ring. Their championship. Their place in the world of things. She hadn't even seen the attack coming, and how was that possible? She pushed herself up on arms that suddenly felt weak, and then she was walking, shoulders tight and fury building with every step.

(In her mind, she heard not the surprised roar of the crowd, but the soft laughter and scathing comments given from a woman that was usually so prim it hurt. In her mouth, she tasted not dust — but the sweet-sticky-unhealthy grease of Rumble Stall foods.)

“Wait!” The boy who’d taken everything she had left shouted, and Toph clenched her fists harder.

“Please wait, I need to speak to you!” He tried again.

“Whoever you are — leave me alone.” She growled, loud and angry and so, so hurt-breaking-upset.

She hadn’t felt the string of emotions in her chest since the day they’d taken Wei Pi away from her. As soon as she was in the Earth, as soon as she was in her Father’s domain and safe from watching eyes, she started running, bending blind until she was somewhere safe to unleash her fury.

It hurt-felt-good-needed-more to unleash all that pain, all that rage at some unknown boy into the Earth. After — only after did she take a steadying breath. Sitting in the dust and grime of her Father’s element, in the wreckage of her rage, she allowed herself to think of Wei Pi in more than abstract concepts.

“I lost today.” She whispered, clenching her teeth through the tightness in her throat.

“I lost today for the first time since I won the belt.” She told no one but her Father and his crust. Jin Wei Pi wasn’t there to hear . . . But something told her she would have been proud regardless.

(‘You held it for two years, Toph. That’s impressive, no matter what your pride says.’)

Toph wasn’t ready to go back to the cold manor compound, wasn’t ready to be Toph Bei Fong after this. But.

But life wouldn’t stop moving just because she’d been hurt. Life would continue, and Toph needed to as well.

(Nanny Pi would have tugged her out of the dirt, made her dust herself off and put everything to right, and then marched her home.)

A deep breath, clear and even and finally — finally the taste of dust and minerals and Earth — finally she stood on firm unshaken legs and took a stance. She would put her father’s domain back to rights, and then she would go back to the Bei Fong residence.

Life would continue marching on.

(Toph put on the mask that belonged to the weak-fragile-sullen Toph, and slipped into the Earth, heading back to the compound. Real Toph could deal with all this later.)

* * *

Bao Fang, who much preferred his stage name to his real name, stared in wide-eyed shock. His head was throbbing and his bones ached, but he knew what he’d seen. The Blind Bandit had taken a dive. After the utter humiliation of his own match against her, she’d taken a dive for some skinny-beaned kid from no-where! Years he'd been in this ring, working himself up from the scrawny kid that first entered to what he was now.

(Years he’d been in this game. Years he’d been building a fan base and a stage presence. Years he’d been trying to take the spotlight and keep it.)

“The Boulder will not be letting this slide!” He growled, clenching his teeth and pressing the cool-pack to his head a little tighter.

He went looking for Xin Fu. Nobody messed with The Boulder’s dreams. The Blind Bandit would pay, and so would the skinny-bean Fancy Dancer that had let her talk him into the set-up.

* * *

“Alright, are you sure this will work?” Aang asked anxiously, bouncing on his feet and wringing his hands and looking up at the same Earth bending school he’d rejected.

“Trust me — We’ve got this.” Katara assured, and she and Azula took the lead.

That was sort of what he was worried about. He still followed them in, because while he was worried he was also eager-excited. Katara with a mission was Katara at her prettiest, and even if he was trying to not be so obvious with his crush, it was still something he wanted to see. The two boys from before were alone in one of the inner courts.

When they noticed Katara and Azula, they tried to sneer, but there was a glint of something afraid in their eyes. Katara took one slow, not-at-all-threatening step towards them, and the sneers dropped.

“W-What do you want?” The dark-haired one asked, his shoulders twitching as if they wanted to hunch.

“We’re looking for someone, and were hoping you could help us find her!” Katara replied, too cheerful and kind when her stance was one of promised action.

Azula was standing in a perfectly bored manner, one elbow braced in a hand, her attention apparently fixed on her nails.

“We— We don’t have to tell you anything!” The other boy hissed.

Katara’s shoulders tensed and even though he couldn’t see her face, he saw something shift in their expressions. Petulant-fear became outright fear, and the dark-haired one ducked behind his friend when Katara took another slow step forward.

“Need I remind you I wasn’t asking this time?” She asked, too sweet.

(The implication there being that she’d been asking for information the time before, instead of outright demanding it.)

Aang shuffled forward and tried to diffuse the situation before they were needlessly violent.

“We were just wondering what you knew about the Blind Bandit?” He asked.

The boys' eyes flickered to him and almost away again, and then they looked back to him in surprise.

“You’re the kid that stole the belt!” The lighter-haired one shouted.

Aang flinched and ducked his head, scratching at his neck in discomfort.

“Stole is a harsh word! It’s not like a meant to! I was just going to lose and then try to talk to her after but—”

“Her?” They asked in unison.

Aang waved the question away and gave them what he hoped was a kind smile, and not a desperate one.

“Please? Any information you have would be helpful!” He offered.

The boys floundered for a second and then seemed to draw themselves up, almost sneering again.

“The Blind Bandit is a mystery! He - she? - shows up to fight, and then h-she vanishes without a trace.” One of them recited, as if it were some kind of code.

(With only minor stumbling.)

Katara took a step forward, even before Aang felt his expression fall.

“Are you telling us everything?” She asked, and Azula shifted and did something, and suddenly there was a dagger spinning around her tiny hands too-fast.

Boy boys let out a sound that only could have been a squeal, and stepped back hurriedly, hands held up in surrender.

“I swear it’s true!” One started, eyes tracking the glint of the blade in Azula’s hand.

“No one knows where h-she comes from, or who she really is!” The other hurried.

Katara and Azula both shifted back and away, and Aang gave the ground a thoughtful look. The swamp hadn’t shown him the Blind Bandit. The swamp had shown him a girl in a fancy dress, followed around by a flying boar. So . . .

“Maybe . . . Maybe that’s because we’re asking about the wrong person.”

He said slowly, ignoring the confused look Sokka sent him.

“What about any local girls with pet flying-boars? Know anyone like that?” Aang asked eagerly, stepping forward and grinning.

The boys hesitated, then gave each-other a thoughtful look.

“Well . . . The flying-boar is the symbol of the Bei Fong family? They’re the richest people in the whole town — maybe even the whole world!” One started.

The other leaned a little further out from where he’d ducked behind his friend and frowned.

“But they don’t have a daughter.” He finished.

Aang nodded and then sighed, glancing to Uncle before he tilted his head toward the entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try I guess. Time for more foot-work?” He asked the group.

Sokka’s eyes sharpened on his briefly, but he nodded instead of saying anything. The boys muttered something Aang couldn’t hear over the excited pound of his heart, and Katara and Azula both responded to varying degrees of coldness, followed by Sokka's proud-sounding chortle. 

Just the connection the Bei Fong’s had to a flying-boar was good enough for him. Caution and history had taught him to be careful with his words around strangers, but thankfully, the others had picked up on that. Their search — and several times, Katara and Zuko’s _probably-worrying_ ability to break into buildings — lead them to a large estate outside of the township, a little west of where they’d set up camp.

“Now what?” He asked.

Azula and Zuko looked tempted to climb the walls and sneak in, but then they both turned to look at him with mildly distrusting looks, and he just knew that Zuko at least was thinking about the Boar-Q-Pine incident and—

“How many times do you need me to apologize for that?” Aang asked in exasperation.

Zuko didn’t respond, which was a response in itself. Aang was so pranking him extra hard for that later. Maybe while the other boy wasn’t expecting it, like in the middle of the night, or the next time he tried to sneak off, or . . . Huh. Maybe it was a good thing they didn’t take him on sneaking missions.

* * *

Toph stilled where she stood in the middle of the gardens, amongst the shrubs. There were five figures stood outside the gates, speaking with the guards. One of them moved so lightly over the grounds, he might as well have been dancing weightless across it. She recognized those steps. They were the steps that had proceeded her winning streak being ruined, and her belt being stolen.

Rage built slowly in her heart, and she took a deep breath, scowling at nothing before she turned slowly, and purposefully wandered towards the guards that were looking for her. They fussed when they found her, and fussed as they lead her into the house, and it took all her will power to not smash them with the Earth for treating her like a baby. All the rage probably wasn't good for her, but she could hardly help it.

(A small portion of her brain continued to track the footsteps, even when she was lead to the formal greeting hall, where Master Yu was.)

"Ah, and how is my favorite student, Miss Toph?" Master Yu asked. 

Toph started very pointedly at nothing and looked as appropriately upset as she could. She especially made sure to slouch extra hard when she felt Newest Nannie's footsteps approaching, being lead by a guard. 

"Tired," she announced, clenching her teeth when that group of five, distinct footsteps pinged against her senses.

"My Lord," the Head Serf started as she was lead inside, "there is a guest requesting an audience." 

"Who dares presume they are important enough to do so?" Lao Bei Fong asked, sounding irritated.

She kind of tuned out the rest, her attention shifting to the quickly approaching footsteps, and the nervousness inherent in the guard leading them. She wondered why they seemed so nervous. There didn't appear to be anything intimidating about the footsteps. Maybe it was a sighted-person-thing. 

The first set belonged to the feather-light dancer from the ring. He moved over the ground as if he were a leaf drifting on the breeze, unaware that most people needed to feel the Earth beneath before every step. Every soft vibration he caused made her ache and twitch to reach out, to force him to stay where she could see him.

(There was something about him - about the whole group - that had her Father's attention. She could feel Dabogong watching them.)

The second set of footsteps was sure and smooth, and had a touch of sharp iciness to the way they set their heel down — as if they were used to walking like they needed to find purchase first. There was a zing along her senses with this one, a call of familiarity. Toph was fairly certain they'd never met before.

The third and fourth footsteps were so startlingly similar, she almost jumped when she realized they were two people and not one. The first was larger, slightly more skittish — she could feel their heart beating quickly from inside the room, for crying out loud — while the second was like a steady pillar. 

(The balance was always just right with the second one, feet too quiet and sneaky to be anything less than perfect. The first one wobbled just the slightest bit every fourth step, like they were overcompensating for something on their left side. Toph wondered if they were hurt.)

These two, with the quiet footsteps and sneaky movements, burned. The stone that made up the inside of the Bei Fong estate sang with the feeling of warmth, like it had been exposed to heady sunlight.

(This was almost distracted enough that she forgot her rage at he Flighty Dancer.)

The fifth and sixth footsteps were easy and lazy, though one held more weight than the other. The heavier one felt just as warm as the previous two, according to her Father's senses, while the lighter one had a hint of steel to their steps, and held the same icy-footed touch as the second, though it was more pronounced. These ones, she could see being the warriors.

"Oh Toph, sweetie, please don't slouch!" Mother whispered, and the newest Nanny - or rather, governess, now that she was twelve - reached out to tug her straight again.

Toph held onto the appearance of sullen compliance, the mask she'd fought to craft, by the skin of her teeth.

_Just one more week._ She had to tell herself Just one more week, and she could follow through with her plan to get the Governess to crack out the good maps for an impromptu lesson of geography, and then she'd be gone.

(This governess was, perhaps, not so bad - she didn't mind letting Toph play in the dirt, showing her how to trace out pathways and shapes in it. Her pity was annoying, but her unintentional usefulness was appreciated.)

Then the whole herd of strangers - and one belt-stealing troglodyte - was being led into the room, and Toph had to give extra focus to her mask.

"Lord and Lady Bei Fong," the head Serf said pompously, "the Avatar, and his Blessed Companions."

The Fancy-Footed-Belt-Stealer stepped forward, and did an odd sort of roll on his feet without actually rolling forward.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice!" The boy chirped, all sunshine and meaningless facial expressions in his voice.

(It was probably a smile, that tone she heard. Only his didn't sound as fake as Poppy Bei Fong's always did.)

Then the meaning behind her Belt-Stealer stepping forward and greeting her parents like an equal clicked and Toph nearly let loose all the bad words she'd picked up from the ring. That certainly hadn't been what she'd expected.

(She was really hoping this wasn't going to complicate her plans. Dabogong choosing that moment to start rumbling a laugh far beneath them did not give her a good feeling.)

"Think nothing of it! It is an honor to have you in our home. What can we do for you?" Lao Bei Fong replied easily. 

Toph turned her head just subtly and glared from underneath her bangs. She had some ideas about what they could do, but none of them would be proper.

"Well, as you know, I'm deeply connected to the spirit world," the boy started, heart-rate steady and even, an almost pleasant thrum through the Earth, "and just at the beginning of this month, after my return from mastering waterbending, I was given a vision that I would find my Earth Bending Master where a flying-boar lived!" The boy declared. 

(Only he'd been lying about that last part. She had to hand it to him, he was very good it, but there was still an uneasy thrum to his heart-beat at the end, an inherent nervousness in the way he . . . hopped? Was he hoping? Toph couldn't tell, but she did know he was a dirty liar, and a belt-stealer.)

"Really? how fascinating! Perhaps it was referring to our Master Yu? He is the finest Earth Bender in the region." Lao announced. 

Toph barely caught her snort in time, turning it into a coughing fit that succeeded in having the Governess nervously patting at her back. She felt like there was more attention on her than there should be after this, and then —

"No, sorry, I don't think so. The vision was very specific - I know at the very least that my Earth Bending Master will be female." the boy announced, still sounding ridiculously cheerful.

A small, confused silence stretched, and then she could almost feel her human parents plotting.

"Well, by all means, you are welcome to stay until you find your Master." Poppy declared, clapping lightly. 

Toph slumped in her seat. How was she supposed to be preparing to leave if there were guests crawling all over the place? Newest-Nanny wouldn't let her out of her sight for very long, if she was going to be expected to be seen. But. Maybe she'd get lucky and her parents would want to keep her hidden?

(Somehow even thinking that gave her a bad feeling.)

She was unfortunately right to be so pessimistic. She'd been hoping he hadn't recognized her. They'd made no mention of her before the Avatar and his companions were shuffled off, and the Avatar didn't seem like the type to do a lot of thinking. Then diner had rolled around and the stupid boy's voice had gone all sly.

"So you've been learning Earth Bending your whole life?" the boy asked eagerly. 

It took only a minute for Toph to realize the game being played here. The Avatar hadn't come to the Bei Fong's because he'd been told he'd find his Master here. He'd come because he'd gotten it into his head that Toph was going to be his master. 

(_Wait! I need to talk to you!_)

It was probably why he'd been at the Rummble. He'd been looking for a Master, and for whatever reason, he'd decided Toph was it. 

(Which — she wouldn't lie, was actually . . . great. No one had ever looked at her and said 'I want to learn to do that.' Mostly because she was creaming everyone left and right. But.)

But. 

They were in the middle of the Bei Fong compound. This was not the time or place for the Avatar to get stupid. Before he could say or do anything to put her very limited amount of freedom at risk, she carefully slid a foot back, and drug his chair forward slightly. The boy let out an oof, then laughed nervously. 

"Unfortunately, my daughter is far too delicate and frail to make any real progress in her training," Lao said, without managing to sound very sad at all.

Toph let the words roll over her like familiar waters, unbothered even if a small-old-angry part of her wanted to be furious. The Avatar paused, some sort of weighted something passed between the five strangers at her father's table, then —

"Oh, I'm sure she'd better than—" Toph didn't give the idiot the option of finishing, shifting her foot again and toppling his chair over. 

This lead to a small spat between her and the Avatar, where they slowly started tossing food back and forth at each other and —

And it was the most fun she'd ever had. It completely confused her parents, made her mother lecture her for an hour after . . . but she'd never actually smiled so much as she had just then, tossing a bowl at the Avatar over the Bei Fong's fancy wooden table. Toph didn't bother explaining herself, didn't bother saying anything to her parents, easily slipping back into the role of sullen obedience.

There would be time for analyzing everything else later.

* * *

Telling the Bei Fong’s who Aang was had been a risk, but it turned out to be the right one. After Aang’s vague-sounding story, they were implored to make themselves at home for as long as it took for Aang’s Spirit-destined Master to appear. The only hiccup in the plan was getting Toph alone long enough to tell her she was actually his Spirit-destined master.

This proved to be impossible, after that first, brief food-fight. It had been three days, and the very few opportunities they'd found to get the girl alone had resulted in Aang and the girl arguing. Zuko had been watching it all happen, and felt it was time that someone other than Aang tried talking to the girl.

Aang was . . . He was too hyper, too eager, too energetic to be paying attention to the little things.

(Things like the way her jaw clenched anytime someone even _insinuated_ that she had no choice but to teach Aang, because ti was destiny. Things like the way she clenched her jaw and her fists, and would sullenly stomp away when those around her started fussing. Things Zuko remembered doing himself, or watching another, amazing little girl do.)

Zuko slipped out that evening after asking Azula to stay with the group and watch the Household.

(Azula would notice the things about the house and staff that were important. Not just how fancy the building was, or how well-mannered the servants pretended to be. They needed to know whether the man that ruled this house was as kind as he pretended to be. Zuko doubted he was, given the way he talked about Toph.)

He found her in the gardens, sitting in the shadows of a tree and scowling at the wall to her left. He stopped with plenty of space between them and waited. Much like it usually did with Azula, it took only ten minutes for her to grow impatient with him standing there.

“What do you want?” She hissed, glaring in his direction.

Zuko shifted into a bow, his stance firm.

“I’d like to speak with you, if I may.” He said.

She stared in his direction with a scowl and a confused expression, and then she was gruffly gesturing to the rock across from her. He padded over and took a seat, and then settled in.

“Well? Spit it out!” She huffed.

Zuko tracked the way her fist clenched over the dirt.

"You have a choice, despite what Aang keeps rambling about," he stated slowly. 

The girl stared at him and tilted her head in confusion. 

"We're a team. A family. We aren't going to push you - Aang just gets too eager, tries to move even when he's standing still. He doesn't mean to push at you, to make you feel less."

Toph scowled, her toes twitching in the dirt. 

"Well he sure has a funny way of showing it!" she snapped, and then blinked at him in surprise.

(Just like Azula, only maybe she had a better understanding of her emotions.)

Zuko over-projected his movements when he shrugged and shifted.

"That's because he doesn't see you as anything less than what you are —"

"A helpless blind girl?" Toph growled, but Zuko kept on, like she hadn't interrupted. 

"A competent, terrifying Master of her Element. Aang doesn't understand the way your parents talk about, because bending is to him like breathing. How can they not see what's so plain to us? You are a force of nature, Toph. To watch you bend is to watch the Earth dance. Aang sees that, and nothing else, and knows that's the way he wants to interact with the ground. I'll talk to him about being so pushy, we all will. All I ask in turn is that you seriously consider coming with us, since we can't stay here too long."

Toph Bei Fong said nothing to this, eyes wide and distant, focused somewhere else but on him. Zuko stood and left. It was always best to give prodigies time to think. It was always best not to push too much, and to speak as plainly as possible. Zuko had accomplished that. Now he needed to get Aang onto the same page. Being the Avatar's Spirit-Blessed companion was hard.

* * *

Toph agreed, finally, to hear what the Avatar had to say. She’d been intending to make the light-footed boy wait some more, but Zuko had been getting jumpier and jumpier the longer they stayed. He didn’t like being around Toph’s father. He didn’t even seem to like being in the compound, if his friends weren’t actively distracting him. It had been two days since Zuko - she'd figured out his name through sheer determination - had spoken to her. 

(She hated to admit that the warm - so warm-burning-living - boy had grown on her in those two days. He was soft-spoken, but he also blustered and shouted, and his steps were also so light on the ground, but in a different way than the Avatars. The Avatar’s was almost weightless, where Zuko’s were purposefully sneaky. He moved like he was ready for others to attack him at any point.)

They'd spoken exactly twice more, briefly, and she had spoken a little to the quiet sneaky shadow that followed the boy around. Azula was a mystery, and one that Toph intended to crack wide open. She was fairly certain she already had a good start on this, since being bluntly honest with the other girl had gotten her a surprised snort and a curt 'You're interesting.'

Now, she was walking barefoot along a the stone wall of the bridge by the pond, letting Aang stew.

(He'd apologized the day after Zuko spoke to her under the tree, stating he hadn't been meaning to make her feel anything bad. That he simply believed absolutely she would be the best person in the world to teach him, and if she would please consider it he would be grateful for _forever_. She'd almost agreed just to make him shut up and stop apologizing.)

“I don’t know if you believe in Spirits very much,” Aang started, and wasn’t that an odd thing to say, for him being the Avatar, “but after I received advice from the King of Omashu, I was lead here. All of the signs I’ve been given point to you being my Earth bending Master.” The boy sounded anxious about this.

When she remained silent, curious to what else he’d say in this more honest version of how he'd come to find her, his heart thump-thump-thumping in her mind, he rushed on.

“And then we got pulled into this Spirit-Swamp, and it showed me you as you were that first day we came here, all dressed fancy with a pet flying-boar and laughing like you did in the ring! And Spirit-vision you lead me on this wild goose-ferret chase, and then we found out you were a message from the swamp and I was going to meet you. Then I did meet you and I accidentally stole your Championship belt, and that was my mistake, I'm sorry!"

The boy rambled. He rambled a lot. He rambled even better than the previous Nanny had when Toph had planted evidence in her room that she'd been gambling, and no one could prove otherwise. 

(Toph had, of course, been the one gambling.)

Aang let out a frustrated sound, and she could tell her was giving her a significant sighted-people look.

"The problem is your father and mother act like you're helpless, and I don’t understand why, because you have to talk to . . . Well, you, to see that you’re brash and strong and really, really confident in your abilities!” Here, his weight started shifting - she could feel it, rolling over the ground beneath his feet with nervous-excited energy.

“Like, you have reason to be really confident too! I’ve never seen an Earth bender move the way you did - the way you do - like you’re so in-tune with the Earth you feel its heart-beat!”

Toph was . . . Well. She was stunned, to put it bluntly.

(Seen. She was seen. Not just by her Father. Not just by Zuko - who was a surprise all his own.)

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve spent the last week watching you being dismissed as weak and delicate and shoved to the side, and I’m sorry if you don’t like this, but I don’t like _that_! You’re more than some - some doll! You’re an Earth bending Master! I’d really like it if you’d be my teacher, if you’d come with us. It’s not going to be safe, or comfortable, or even great all the time, but . . . ”

Here, Aang hesitated, and she could feel the boy straightening his shoulders.

“But we’ll never tell you that you’re incapable of handling it, because you clearly are, Toph.” He whispered.

Toph felt as if a yawning rift was opening, in the empty space where Wei Pi used to live.

(Her voice was buzzing inside Toph’s mind, laughing at the audacity of this flighty, too-soft child that wanted to play in the dirt. She thought of the stories Wei Pi had told of her own adventures. Thought of the woman who had been grown into a soldier and never let anyone hold her back. The laughter rang louder in her mind.)

“Fine.” She breathed, and felt like some hidden weight was slipping from her shoulders.

“I know, but— wait what?” Aang startled, and Toph smirked.

“I said fine. I’ve been wanting to leave for years anyway.” She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest and smugging some more at him.

“Besides, if I left you on your own, you’d all become pancakes in a week, flat. Or maybe crispy-fried hermit-crab-dumplings.”

Aang sputtered in front of her, then seemed to melt in relief.

“Oh thank goodness. I was afraid we’d actually have to try and kidnap you, and I didn’t really see us winning a fight against you and —” Toph held up a hand before he could continue.

Kid tended to ramble if she let him.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go back to the Compound, so that Ice Queen of yours can help me pack and write a note to my parents.” She shrugged.

She could hear his confused mutter of ‘Ice Queen?’ But something tinged on her awareness. Something that rumbled in the Earth and drew her notice. Something - someones - that didn’t belong.

“We’re being ambushed!” She hissed, and reached for Aang, managing to grab his hand - or had he grabbed hers - and turning to run.

Then someone was popping out of the ground in front of her, and she could feel Father’s distant, irritated huffing, deep beneath them. Before she could move to strike, a creak and a fuzziness on the wall behind them had her attention too-late, and she was being encased in metal.

“You kids owe me some money,” a voice said, and she was not pleased to find it belonged to Xin Fu.

“What are you talking about?” She growled, hands blindly smacking forward and feeling up until her fingers curled over bars.

They’d locked her in a metal cage. She was blind, but she could still hear, and unfortunately, only one of those things was useful just then.

“No one cheats Xin Fu, least of all some kid.”

When she got out she was totally going to kick his ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You, probably: "Did the Avatar just state they were going to kidnap someone if they didn't get her compliance?"  
Me: Yeee.  
You, Probably: "Any chance there's actually a version of that you've written down?"  
Me: Funny story. So that almost happened, but then I realized that when [SPOLIERS] happened, this would not help things. SO. Toph is kidnapping herself.


	25. Let wild things go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, really, really sorry for the prolonged absence there. RL things got in the way of writing, and the small moments I did get to write, they weren't very productive, until I wasn't writing at all. At this point, we can all just agree that this year sucks, and that even saying so is redundant, right?   
Again, many apologies for the lateness, but thank you to everyone that commented! (Will hopefully be able to respond to some of those.)

“Sire,” his newest scribe muttered, nervous and fluttering in front of him.

Ozai stared from his throne, took another deep, purposeful breath, and nodded. The Temper was getting easier, the hours his for longer. He had started coaching his most loyal through how to maintain themselves under the loss of Agni’s false warmth. The more he turned to his own way, the faster they all saw - they had been paying homage to a false Deity.

(More had died this week, from cold that he no longer felt. He was burning with glorious purpose. But then, he had not been ingesting the same poisons that the rest of his people were.)

Agni was a lie perpetuated by the Sages, and soon, everyone would know this as well as he, and his people would stop having foolish notions about 'going back to their roots.'

(The Sages wouldn't be a problem soon regardless, so their opinions would fade like snuffed flames.)

“Sire, we received word from an independent group in the Earth Kingdom. They’ve sworn they found your daughter.” The scribe continued slowly, only just barely lifting his head from where he bowed.

(Looks like someone remembered his place in life.)

“Where?” He growled, anger sparking and madness threatening to rip his mind out of his control.

A small, stretched silence, and he could tell the coward below him was trying to brace himself.

“They swear they saw her assisting the Avatar, Sire.” Quiet, damning words.

Ozai was going to need a new scribe, possibly.

“I expected such treachery from the boy,” he mused, gritting his teeth at the quaking figure below him, “but never from my _Legacy._”

It was just one more thing that the rest of the world would pay for. A thought occurred to him, in the wild haze of fighting for clarity, and he turned sharply to the scribe.

“Send for my spymaster. I have need of a hunter.” He announced.

The scribe looked ridiculously grateful to be given such an order. Ozai contemplated that had his need been less dire, he’d be taking exception to that — but as it was . . .

“What are you waiting for?” He snapped, and the man scurried away like a swallow-mouse.

In his absence, Ozai glared at the flame that only barely listened to him, if his mind was clear, and the gaping void of rage that accompanied the knowledge that his daughter — his pride, his legacy — had betrayed him. Someone would be made to pay.

(The flame flickered, and he took that as a victory - forgetting that Agni's fire spirits were known as mischief-makers. He'd been forgetting this for some time.)

* * *

There was a rumble beneath their feet, and Zuko tensed further. That hadn’t felt any more natural than the last small tremble of Earth beneath him. He resumed his pacing, anxious and unsure, and Sokka stopped sharpening his machete to sigh again.

“Zuko, buddy, brother,” he started slowly, and earned himself a territorial look from Azula, “you’re making me dizzy. Stop. Aang is fine.”

Zuko rounded on the other boy and scowled.

“You don’t know that! It’s been way too long!” He hissed-not-shouted, because he wasn’t sure how thin the walls were, but he was positive that at least one servant was always close by. He did not want to speak too loudly and draw attention.

Servants were the best kinds of spies, because most people didn't pay any attention to them. It was a mistake Azula and Zuko had never made, especially if their Father's favorite servants happened to be close by. There was a reason Ozai always seemed to simply know things.

(Or, according to Azula, that he _used_ to know things. If her stories of the last weeks in the Caldera were true, their father hadn't had any favorite servants left.)

“Calm yourself, Nephew. Perhaps join me for a cup.” Uncle soothed from where he sat sipping at his tea and playing Weiqi against himself.

“This is not the time for tea, Uncle!” He sighed, and another small, telling rumble had him bracing himself, his body wanting to tilt left but correcting quickly.

“It is always time for tea!” Uncle corrected, smiling soft and wide. 

Why did no one else seem concerned over that rumbling? Before he could correct Uncle again, there was an urgent knock at their suit door, and Zuko slipped towards Uncle's flank. Lao Bei Fong swept into the room before anyone could call him in, looking frazzled.

“This just arrived, delivered to guards at the gate by a bizarre-sounding man.” He informed them, smacking a scroll down on the table.

Uncle moved to roll it open curiously, and then froze, and they all drifted closer, Katara quickly tying off the most recent braid she’d started in Azula’s hair.Zuko stared at the words on the scroll and felt his heart drop out of his chest and into his stomach.

_ We have your daughter and the Avatar.  _

_ If you want both returned alive, bring five hundred gold zenny for each to the Rumble Ring. _

_ Xin Fu, _

_ The Boulder _

“Ransom?!” Sokka squawked, eyes wide, and then quickly going hard.

“Yes, they have my daughter, and the Avatar! Why and how did this happen?” The man asked, eyes suspicious and hard, and Zuko somehow found a new level of tension, because the way he was looking at them, it was like he thought they’d planned this.

Azula spoke before any of them could, her voice too sweet to be a Good Sign.

“Oh, Toph came to ask for the Avatar’s forgiveness. She was very insistent on speaking to him about the dishonor she’d been paying to him as the daughter of his host.” Azula announced, flipping some of her hair over her shoulder, the beads that decorated it clinking pleasantly as she did so.

Lao Bei Fong stared at her, and Zuko checked the impulse to step in front of her in response. He disliked the attention being centered on his sister, but he would never let her think he doubted her own ability to take care of herself.

“My poor, poor daughter,” the man finally whispered, face finally crumpling from suspicion to worry, and if Zuko was honest, he hadn’t expected that kind of open concern for Toph.

Of course, his opinion was probably skewed because in Lao's behavior, he could see some of Ozai's less extreme ideals. The way that he had Toph - who was fully capable of looking after herself - watched as well as the average person _could_ watch her was reminiscent of the way Ursa had often been shadowed by Ozai's personal guard. The way he spoke over his wife, spoke over his daughter, as if they were objects he owned, only allowed to speak with his say so, was very much something Ozai had done. A lot. To . . . well, everyone not Grandfather. Or Uncle, come to think on it.

“She must be so scared.” The man added.

(This swiftly killed the image of a worried father, in Zuko’s mind. Because if this man actually knew his daughter at all, he would know that Toph Bei Fong was more than likely cussing up a storm at whoever had been stupid enough to take her hostage. Or beating them up for the offense. Which—)

“How - how did they capture Aang and your daughter?” He asked, scowling at the man.

He blinked, and then seemed to come alive with wild indignation.

“According to my head of security, it looks like they had something heavy dropped on top of them — some kind of cage. He suspects they might be a type of metal coffin the Earth Military uses for deserters!” The man cried.

That definitely made more sense than any usual means stopping Toph from crushing someone flat. Zuko cast a look at Sokka and Uncle, and found them both looking serious for once, while Katara and Azula looked . . . Placid. Calm and amused.

(Of the two reactions, he was slightly more concerned about Sokka looking serious, than Azula and Katara looking amused. The two girls being mildly terrifying was simply their right as sisters. Sokka being serious was unusual, even in the most trying situations. That plus the calculated gleam, the too-quick thoughts though . . . that was slightly more familiar. Sokka was planning something.)

“We need to go get them back,” Uncle announced while standing, his eyes hard.

Sokka nodded once beside him, and Zuko shifted into the formation that had become most natural. Lao Bei Fong stared at them quietly, still looking a mixture of things that was too complicated for even Zuko to decipher, and then he nodded.

“I have sent for Master Yu. He’ll help us.” He promised.

(Having seen the man bend, and heard about his teaching method, Zuko doubted this, just slightly.)

Unfortunately, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and they did need the man to pay the ransom for them. It wasn’t like they had five hundred golden zenny just laying around.

(Aang had given the winnings and the belt back to Toph, to Sokka’s dismay, and after paying for the saddle, they only had fifty bone-pieces of Northern Money, and smaller increments of other innocuous currency they’d picked up over their travels.)

So. Somehow, they had to plan around the Bei Fong Head, rescue Aang and Toph, and figure out how they were going to continue convincing the girl to come with them from outside the Bei Fong walls - because that's probably where they would end up, when all of this was over. Zuko knew how men like Lao thought.

* * *

“Ah, there you are Lord Bei Fong.” Xin Fu’s voice echoed.

Toph twitched in the metal box, and felt the urge to sigh and curse simultaneously, that spark of rage in her gut _growing_ with her father’s voice.

“Where is my daughter!” He shouted, alarmed-irritated-pompous.

“Ah ah — the money first.” Xin Fu ordered.

Everything else that happened, happened too low for her to catch, especially over the jingle of Aang uselessly tugging at his own cage. She squeezed the bars in her hand tight when she felt unexpected movement and a dip in her stomach, indicating she was being lowered. She had enough time to contemplate that there where enough Earth Benders standing around them that Aang’s companions would not be able to safely retrieve him - and she knew that Xin Fu wouldn’t be handing the boy over.

(He had been talking loud enough for that — loud enough to boast that he would be famous for capturing the Avatar and turning him over to the Fire Nation. It made her angry-sick, knowing this man would so willingly consider doing that to a child. Even if that child was the supposed bridge between worlds, some penultimate super-bender. Aang was still an awkward, goofy kid - sorta like her. Only sorta, because Toph wasn't goofy - she was amazing.)

When the metal hatch snapped open beneath her, she fell easy, so used to the feeling of tumbling that landing soft was second nature. She almost turned right around to fight them — but they were tensed and waiting for that. Gritting her teeth and forcing herself to move forward, to run to where she could feel her father waiting, was the second-hardest thing she’d ever done.

(Every slap of her feet against the stone beneath her painted a clearer picture, gave her a clearer image of the ring and all its cracks and crevices. She rarely looked so closely at the ring - she’d previously had no need to know it as intimately as she was knowing it now. No fight had ever lasted long enough.)

But this fight? The fight she was planning now was going to test all of the limits of the stone beneath her.

(She hoped that if nothing else came of tonight, Xin Fu would have to bust the Rumble up and revamp it into Rumble VII. It would be expensive and a long-going process, and exactly what he deserved. He hadn't had to do that for four and a half years, not since Rumble V had been found by a rare dispatch of soldiers from the front and they'd gotten irritated over the very illegal nature of it.)

When she reached her father, he grabbed her hand and started ushering her away - which is what she’d needed the performers behind her to see, so she didn’t fight too much. She waited until they were in the tunnel that lead out, until she could feel the Avatar’s friends on the ring hesitantly taking steps back while the ring fighters advanced. She waited until the performers she'd left behind thought they were actually getting away with it.

“Toph!” Someone called, and she recognized the Ice Queen’s voice.

She didn’t give them a chance to ask for help — she just tugged her hand out of her father’s and turned, marching with purpose back the way she’d be drug. Lao Bei Fong sputtered behind her, and Toph cracked her knuckles loudly.

“Toph Bei Fong!” Her father shouted.

She ignored him, and tuned out whatever else he started shouting. Toph had made herself a promise sitting in that metal cage, and she intended to keep it. By the time she’d marched all the way back up to the ring, they’d taken the Avatar down and were laughing, and Toph did what she was best at.

She made an entrance.

When she reached the top step, she stomped both feet, rumbling the ring around them. In the same move, she blocked the opposite set of stairs with a jagged piece of rock, and took a deep breath.

(Behind her, the Avatar's companions shifted and moved, flanking her. That . . . that was a new feeling. Having people stand behind her, as if they trusted her to do something.)

“Let him go,” She ordered, “Unless you all want a repeat of the last time we fought,” she couldn’t help but add with a smirk she felt all the way to her toes.

(Her Father’s crust rumbled beneath their feet, inviting and anticipating all in one. She didn’t think anyone else noticed this particular detail.)

“The Boulder takes issue with that comment.” The other fighter voiced, and she could almost feel the man’s irritation bleeding through the stone between them.

Toph smiled a smile that had been known to make other fighters hearts stutter with _insurmountable rage_.

“I take issue with how terribly you messed up your form for the Crashing Tiger-Dillo, but you don’t hear me complaining.” She taunted back.

In a movement she felt more than ‘saw,’ The Hippo shifted and grunted, and then there was a big something smashing into the earth by the group of fighters she’d spent the last five seasons beating.

“Big talk for a little girl that’s outnumbered!” Someone else shouted, and Toph spent more time winning against these men than she did talking to them, so she couldn’t say who it was that spoke, when there was no shifting weight in the Earth to help her.

“Oh please! I could take you all blind!” She jested, letting her smile stretch in a way that Wei Pei had once told her was nothing short of disrespectful, and then she cackled for good measure.

That seemed to be all they needed to actually start the fight. All seven of the Earth Benders opposite her rushed forward, steps sure and weights just distinguishable enough that she knew who was who. The Avatar’s companions behind her shifted forward, and Toph threw out her arms, teeth gritting in anticipation.

(They had locked her in a metal cage, refused to even try meeting her on even ground. They thought they could get away with treating her like nothing more than a rich man’s daughter.)

“They’re mine.” She growled.

A shift in her stance, a firm stomp into the thin crust of dirt in the ring, and Toph focused in the way she’d been taught by a woman that had broken a lot of records in her stint as a _military_ woman.

She raised her arms and the ring shook around her, and the morons in front of her kept coming. She waited until they were halfway across the ring before she shifted her stance, pulling herself tight, and then flinging curled hands out quickly, releasing all the pressure she’d built.

An explosion of fine dust-dirt-grime, pieces of her Father’s crust — hit the air, and now her opponents were just as blind as she was. She inhaled the fine, musty scent of clay, then stepped forward, letting the grunge in the air coat her like a second skin.

(It was like being even more welcomed by her Father than she already was, like she’d been given a fresh coat of skin that didn’t feel fleshy and weak. Toph loved this feeling more than she loved the connected zing of her soul to Dabogong’s realm when she danced with his element.)

The men she’d trapped in a what was probably a heavy cloud of dust had separated and were blindly turning, and Toph sought them out one by one. Fire Nation Man - the distinctive way he moved, both grounded and fierce was a give-away - was the first to be tossed out of the ring when he mistook himself for a Fire bender and send loose-packed dirt at her instead of solid-sharp-rocks.

She found the Gecko next, taunted him with her presence by tossing a pebble at him. He'd never quite forgiven her for bruising his reputation with the way she'd swept the belt right out from underneath him. Geko made the mistake of going air-born, projecting his moves too loud - which is what happened when you learned how to bend for performance purposes. She might have bruised his ribs on purpose when she sent him out of the ring.

(He kind of deserved it, with the way he’d been making comments about her behind her back the last few weeks.)

Among them all, the only one of them that actually managed to find her instead of being found was The Gopher, but that was hardly a surprise. He spent as much time connected to Dabogong’s realm as she did - but then, she’d felt him go under the ring the instant he decided to, had been tracking him passively.

She caught the rock he sent flying - as a senior fighter, his form for the Lizard-Crane was pretty good - and tossed it back, shifting the Earth around him even as it flew. He left the ring in a no less impressive manner than the last two had.

The Boulder and The Big Bad Hippo had teamed up and stuck together - hardly surprising, given their matching ideals - and she danced around them in the dirt for a bit. The Hippo stumbled out of her cover, and she sent the Boulder tumbling after him.

(Above them, she could feel Headhunter, trying to be sneaky but pulling all the same tricks as before.)

She danced into view just at the center of the ring, smirked at them as they hefted up their own weapons. Her ears twitched as Headhunter yelled, and the two in front of her charged. A few quick movements, and the zenny-motif they all stood on shifted swiftly.

(And entirely on purpose, she gave her father, who she knew was watching, the best vantage to see what she was doing. To show him. He had spent her entire life calling her weak, but she was a child beating seasoned fighters. She was showing him because she was still infuriated that he thought her weak. She was infuriated that Aang had practically spelled out that _she_ was his destined teacher, and her human father was completely ignorant that Toph most aptly fit the boy's descriptions.)

It was almost disappointingly easy after they all collided to smirk some more and kick them out of her ring. They went flying and Toph turned, shifting as she did so. Xin Fu stood beyond, calm and still, and she suspected he cut an impressive figure for the sighted when she dispersed the dirt back to where it belonged.

They circled each other, her movements firm and grounded, and he was the one to strike first. (He was always the one to strike first.) Toph danced around his attacks, let herself fall into the void of rumbles and sensations, echoes of movement within the rock that painted a picture in her head.

He was just as disappointing to toss out of the ring as the rest.

(And suddenly she realized — the ring was too small for her now. Earth Rumble was too small for her now. She’d just beaten seven fighters that were renown for their abilities in the span of an average match length. She wasn’t quite ready for this revelation.)

In the end, it was just her, shifting absently through the motions of smoothing the ring, putting all the jagged pieces back together. Toph let her head dip down, let her own confusion be a private thing. Because —

Because the ring had been theirs. The Rumble pit had been theirs. If she was too big for it now, how was she supposed to remember?

“Toph!” Her human father called, and she sighed.

She felt the Avatar shift behind her, and she held up a hand in his direction, even as he and his people drew closer.

“Whatever happens when we get back to the compound — do not leave Gaoling.” She whispered softly, speaking in the direction of Zuko’s erratic heart-beat.

He barely had time to answer before Lao Bei Fong was there, grabbing her hand and tugging, his heart pitter-pattering, and his anger almost a living thing.

“We are going home! Avatar, you will accompany me and explaining why you and my daughter were so far from the patrols when these — these ruffians took her!” The man shouted.

(Very much ignoring that he’d been content to leave the same Avatar to fend for himself, barely half an hour before.)

Toph grimaced as she realized she’d have to give some version of the truth, realized that she would need to, if she was going to appropriately distract the Head of the Bei Fong family long enough to make a real plan.

Because Toph Bei Fong was not going to keep pretending she was a helpless, delicate little flower. Not with the knowledge that the ring was too small now. Not with the knowledge that the rest of the world was there, that adventure was within reach, if she only took that leap and walked away from everything familiar.

(Not with the knowledge that Jin Wei Pei would have done all of that and more, would have been pushing her out the door already, had she still been around — because she had been the only adult in Toph’s life that had ever understood.)

With this knowledge in mind, Toph stood in front of her human parents and, for the first time ever, was honest.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, but the obedient, helpless little blind girl you think I am just isn’t me,” she started, staring in her father’s direction.

Her mother’s heart had been beating harsh before she’d settled into her seat, her father’s the same. It didn’t matter. They needed to hear what she had to say, if only once.

“I love fighting,” she continued, found her lips twisting into a small, genuine smile, “I love being an Earthebender — and I’m really, really good at it! I love knowing I’m connected to something larger than myself. I love stepping into a ring full of people that love it just as much, and I love smashing rocks. I know I’ve kept this secret from you — but you’ve been keeping me a secret from the whole township — probably even the whole world! The only people that know I exist are Bei Fong’s, and they all think I’m some helpless child!” She finished.

She did not - despite the desire to do so - talk about how lonely it had been, being stuck here without ever having a friend. She did not remind them that they had purposefully kept her isolated out of miss-informed protective instincts and _shame_.

(She did not remind them that the only time she’d ever been happy in their care, it wasn’t their care she was receiving, but the gentle touch of calloused fingers and the constant presence of someone that smelled of valley flowers. She did not mention Wei Pei, because her human parents would no more acknowledge the woman’s importance now than they had after they’d first sent her away.)

She did not ask them to keep loving her, despite what they now knew. Toph had known for a long time that her parents loved her in only the most absent of ways. She had been an obligation - a child they’d had through mutual agreement. A burden that they took care of with the knowledge that one day, they would find her a husband to take over looking after her.

(A delicate flower, that needed only what they thought it needed — carefully potted and placed inside, where it wasn’t at risk of wilting with bad weather. Living a life of second-hand sunlight and consistent watering, but never touching the world.)

“This whole ordeal has made me realize something,” her father started, sounding pensive, and like he was about to announce something that was right simply because he said it was, “I’ve let you have far too much freedom!”

Toph almost snorted at that, almost laughed in his face, but laughing at him now would mean lectures later, and she needed to be in her room in the next hour, or she couldn’t run-away properly.

“From now on, you will receive care and be guarded twenty-four hours a day!” He continued.

Her mother said nothing, but that wasn’t surprising. Toph almost did argue, but instead, she grit her teeth and glared at the floor.

“I am doing this for your own good, Toph.” Her father announced, sounding resigned, and Toph heard the distant, hazy voice of Wei Pei snorting in the back of her mind.

(What she wouldn’t give, to have the woman here with her now, to listen to her finally lose her patience with Lao Bei Fong.)

“Escort the Avatar out! He and his companions are no longer welcome here.” Lao continued, and Aang’s heart did an odd stuttering thing, while Zuko’s beat in triple time, his sneaky feet dancing away from the servants that were clearly trying to grab at him.

“You don’t need to touch me, I’m moving!” He shouted, sounding affronted, and Toph forced herself not to smile at the growl to his words.

“Toph,” Aang called, his voice ridiculous levels of nervous and sad, “I’m so sorry.” He said.

She didn’t think he was talking about her new guards.

(_I don’t like the way he treats you_, Aang had said, voice serious and limbs jittery on the Earth — and so sincere she’d almost gotten a tooth-ache from the sweetness of them.)

“Me too.” She called back, gritting her teeth, and then letting her new guards usher her towards her room. The guards stayed nearby while the hand-maids fussed over her, making her take a bath and get clean, and then they stationed themselves outside her door.

Toph waited an hour, feet planted on the stone floor beneath her. She didn’t have to wait any longer, because there was a flutter of almost-too-soft-footfalls on the very edge of her senses. Toph smirked, then stood, stretching muscles that were still loose from the jaunty warm-up of tossing benders out of her ring.

She changed into her first set of fighting robes quietly and quickly, tossing the new nightdress she’d been shoved into aside. Then she leaned up against the window of her room and waited.

(Wei Pie had once told her she'd be great. Toph was going to go out and prove it.)

* * *

Stupid-face-Aang was pacing, a few miles away from the Bei Fong home, his eyes wide with concern.

“She agreed! I swear she did — she was going to come with us, but then we were ambushed, and then we were in cages! And now we’ve been kicked out! What are we going to do!!” He moaned, scrubbing his hands down his face.

Azula gave the boy a bland look, then rolled her eyes at Zuzu.

“Simple. We sneak in there and grab her. Or rather, one of us sneaks in there and grabs her,” she said slowly, motioning between Zuzu, Katara and herself with a twitch of her fingers.

Aang stopped pacing to blink at her in what she thought might be a worried manner, but Zuko smiled, slow and soft — the special smile that was just for her. Katara looked tempted to volunteer, and Azula was not about to let that happen. She’d been bored out of her mind ever since Omashu - though she’d been admittedly less bored in the weird swamp, even if she hadn’t liked it there - and being unable to bend the last few days had left her with too much energy.

“I’ll do it. I’m smaller than the other two, and I know the house better.” She informed them all, then turned on her heel.

“Wait,” Zuko called, and she might have been annoyed, if it weren’t for the soft weight of a dark-colored yukata being slipped over her shoulders, “meet us where we first touched down. We need to get Appa’s new saddle on him anyway.”

Azula nodded, purposefully ignoring his talk about a new saddle, and spent a minute tucking the robe into her sash. She then slipped into the trees, back towards the Bei Fong compound. It had been a long time since she’d needed to sneak around a palace, and as fun as her practice runs had been, this was bound to be even more fun. 

(The man who owned the land might not call it a palace, but that’s what it was. Azula was well versed enough in palaces to know this was a fact.)

Slipping through the shadows, sneaking through the corridors, might have been riskier if any of the men employed were even half as interesting as Toph Bei Fong. Even when she'd been a guest and getting caught wouldn't have been as bad, the guards hadn't proven very good at . . . well, guarding. She snuck by all of them easy, sometimes slipping right up behind them, and none of them saw her coming.

Not the way the girl lounging against the window she came through did. Azula slipped into the shadows under the window and stared up at the smirking girl, then tilted her head slowly.

“Anything you want to take with you?” She whispered quietly.

(_Whispering is important Lala_, her brother’s much younger voice murmured through her mind, _it’s not sneaking if the guards can hear you_. That had been when he’d first started actively teaching her to Sneak, and Azula agreed now. It was no fun if you gave your opponents a hint. Not that the men patrolling the compound were very good opponents.)

“Yeah,” the Earth bender whispered back, sliding a foot slowly across the floor.

A small nook a meter in front of the bed slid aside nearly soundlessly, and inside, there were a couple of changes of clothing, one of them similar to the fighting clothes from the ring. They just had slightly different coloration. Below them, there was a set of clothing that looked a little . . Average, compared to the other things she’d seen the girl wear. Underneath that were lots of bags of - after a cursory hefting of one - gold. Azula stared at the gold hard for a minute, then shrugged and acquired a bag to shove everything into.

The girl that had followed her helped by holding the bags of money up, and Azula took a moment to listen to the voice in her head that sounded like Katara - just a moment, she didn’t want that voice trying to give her too many ideas - before she turned towards the vanity in the corner and plucked up a brush and comb set, as well as several hair oils and ribbons. Then she took another moment to open a drawer and pull out several pieces of clothing that looked less fancy and were lighter.

(There had been several hot days recently, and even colder nights. Besides. The girl couldn’t go naked during wash days, and what about if she started developing more? These were all the same considerations she’d put into packing her own bag for this trip, so she decidedly ignored the voice that sounded like Stupid-face-Aang that whispered she was getting good at _caring_. This was not caring. This was just thinking smart.)

“What’d you grab?” Toph asked curiously, tilting her head at Azula.

Azula blinked at the girl, then glanced behind her. The vanity was heavy wood - which seemed silly, but then, these were the same parents that thought their daughter was delicate - and she answered back just as quiet.

“Your brush and hair oils. Some extra changes of clothing and wrappings.” She shrugged.

Toph blinked at her, like it hadn’t occurred to her that she would need those things, and then she smiled faintly, still cocksure, still hard, but much softer than the look she’d given Xin Fu and his men.

“Thanks.” She shrugged, the first hint of awkwardness that Azula had yet seen.

Azula huffed in response, like the thanks was both unnecessary and stupid, and she slipped past the other girl.

“Come on, we need to go before that guard at your door peeks in and I break my promise not to set people on fire.” Azula stated blandly, and then slipped back out the window.

She was grateful that the soft chuckle that followed those words was_ too-soft_ for the guard further down the way to hear. Sneaking was such a trial when other people kept forgetting all the rules.

* * *

Appa’s new saddle had been completed in that stretch of time between first going to the Bei Fong’s, and the day before Aang and Toph had been captured. They’d left the saddle in the first clearing they’d landed in with the bison and the King Servals, unwilling to make themselves a target by drawing attention to the bison in the Bei Fong compound.

Now, the lighter, longer design took the place of the old one. Aang had checked the saddle over so many times after they’d picked it up, he’d almost offended the craftsman that made it for them.

The rim of it was lighter wood, with more spacing inset into it, and the saddle portion was thick leather rather than sturdy wood. Included had been several long straps that Aang swore had been used on Bison saddles before — in fact, the whole design had been something he remembered from his childhood.

(Something about how the elder monks used such saddles when carting many children between the temples for different yearly events. Aang hadn’t gone into detail about the events, and Sokka hadn’t asked.)

Either way, Sokka loved it. The new saddle was way lighter than the old one - which Aang had insisted on setting up next to a stream, held down and covered by heavy rocks so that some animal could requisition it as a home. It also promised to be just as sturdy, made from wood that Aang had spent almost an hour looking for.

(Part of the crafting deal had been that if they could get the wood, the craftsman would discount the price.)

Sokka - with Zuko holding up a tiny flame for light - was helping Aang check over the lines of the straps. One of the straps ran between Appa’s third and second legs, and another set sort of slipped around his first set of limbs and was hooked there by a series of metal pieces that had fascinated Sokka from the start.

(One piece a curved oblong shape, the connecting piece a sort of wide, long piece with two short arms at the top. This was secured additionally by the use of various other knots and straps.)

Overall, the new saddle took a little longer to put on and take off, but from the way Appa stretched underneath it and gave an approving huff, he could tell that it had been well worth it.

“They’re here!” Aang called from the bison’s other side, and Sokka and Zuko finished up, then quickly rounded Appa’s front.

Azula was eyeing the new saddle with faint distrust, but Toph was smirking at Aang as the boy prattled in front of her. Both girls had a bag slung over their shoulders.

(This unnerved him, because it meant that either Azula had stolen something, or that Toph was unexpectedly more attached to things than he’d thought she would be.)

All of Aang’s nerves were seeping out of his limbs with every word he spoke, being replaced by buoyant energy that didn’t belong in anyone when it was so late at night. Especially when it was late at night and they were technically-sort-of stealing a rich man's daughter.

“Perfect. Now that everyone is here, we can get going!” He exclaimed, eyeing the faint lights of Gaoling only briefly.

Aang pivoted quickly and exclaimed an agreement, and Toph turned her attention to Appa’s hulking figure with curiosity.

“Is that the animal you traveled here on?” She asked, shuffling forward in a way that was . . . Odd.

How had he not noticed before that her full foot never really left the ground? Sort of like she glided over the Earth rather than stepped over it. He'd seen her stomp around a lot but - oh. He'd spent most of his time with her at the Bei Fong estate, where she'd done nothing but stomping. Because everyone thought she was an invalid. Right.

“Yes! This is Appa! Appa, this is Toph — come on, you’ll need to meet him before we can leave.” Aang declared, all smily and chipper, and Tui and La, Sokka was tired, why was Aang no longer so tired?

Instead of trying to hurry everything along, Sokka obligingly stepped back and watched with everyone else as Aang guided Toph’s hand to Appa’s nose, and Appa took an obligatory sniff before he gave a deep coo and nudged the girl slightly.

“I liked the old saddle.“ Azula said quietly, mulishly, somewhere to his right, and Sokka took a quick glance.

“I know.” Zuko said, just as quiet.

“This one looks flimsy. I could set it on fire.” The girl continued.

Zuko shifted in a small way, and Sokka was positive that his battle brother was now holding the girl's hand, where no one could see.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t. You have better control than me, remember?” Zuko teased.

(Sokka took issue with this statement, because he’d seen Zuko train, and his battle buddy legitimately didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘uncontrollable,’ but he also recognized a distraction tactic when he heard one.)

“Don’t be dumb, ZuZu. Do you think I can still do handstands in this saddle?” Azula returned, giving her brother a bland look out of the corner of her eyes.

Zuko’s uncomfortable look told Sokka that they were likely going to find out the answer to this question the hard way. Sokka sympathized, quietly and only to himself. Toph let out a small cackle, and he turned back to see that Appa had very clearly licked the girl, collarbone to face. Her fringe was sticking up at odd angles.

“That means he likes you!” Aang announced.

Toph smirked back at the boy.

“Of course he does. I’m amazing.” She announced.

At that point, they heard a gong being rung, somewhere, and Toph winced.

“_That_ is our cue to leave. Now. Quickly.” Toph cut in, and Aang got a serious look on his face as he nodded, then motioned to everyone else.

They’d already placed everything in the saddle, and when he and Zuko took the bags from Toph and Azula to do the same, Sokka yelped in surprise and Zuko paused, hefting the bag he’d taken up and down a couple times.

“What's in here?”

They asked at the same time, giving similarly suspicious looks to the two girls. Azula stared back blandly and then smirked. It was more intimidating than it had a right to be, and not as cocksure as Tophs in that moment.

“Gold,” Azula said simply.

“From all my wins.” Toph elaborated, and Sokka felt his breath rush out of him.

“Ah. Well.” He said slowly, awkwardly, and then he turned to toss his bag up to Katara.

His sister had some trouble catching it outright and hefting it into the saddle, was glaring down at them when she turned back to take Zuko’s from him. Sokka expected retaliation for that stunt, but he was almost looking forward to it.

(It was about time they started another prank war.)

Toph refused help in getting into the saddle, bending herself straight up and then hesitantly climbing in - and notably only accepting Iroh’s offer of assistance, probably because Uncle could endure himself to just about anyone. Azula had scrambled into the saddle in that same space of time, and Sokka and Zuko followed.

When they left the outer rim of Gaoling, that gong was still tolling, frantic and echoing, but they’d all elected to ignore it. Toph might be a runaway in the eyes of others, but at least what she was running to was a better life.

(Even if it would, admittedly, be a life of danger. Danger was, after all, better than never being allowed to live at all.)

* * *

“You’ve ensured that the new road they’re trying has units on it?” She asked, glaring at the map that was a puzzle of colored ink.

Red, green, and blue lines stretched out from Gaoling township like spiderwebs. Lilypad - the only name her second had ever given, and the only one Wei Pei was interested in - nodded seriously.

“Yes. Three, on the off-chance one unit misses them. We’ve also got a response from the teams you sent North West. That group you heard about — you won’t believe it — it was just a bunch of kids. Apparently they nearly got a whole town killed because their ‘leader,’ had a grudge and a lot of charisma.”

Wei Pei frowned at that, turned her attention away from the map to look at her second, and Lily held up her hand in a calming gesture.

“It’s okay, the unit made overtures, and the kids are coming back with them. Their ‘leader,’ wasn’t too happy about it, but you know how Saku is when he’s angry. Didn’t give the tyke much of a choice.” She laughed.

Wei Pei might have joined her, if Tei hadn’t come in at that moment looking pale and worried.

“Oh, please tell me Taka didn’t go raiding another Bei Fong merchant caravan.” She sighed, leaning against her desk with an amused glance towards Lily.

Tei shook his head slowly, took a deep breath, and then altered her world.

“I just got news from our spy in Lao’s ranks. Toph was kidnapped — by the Avatar.”

Her stomach dropped out through her feet and Wei Pei realized there were, in fact, fresh horrors in her life she’d never contemplated. Because why and how would the Avatar have kidnapped her Toph? Toph who could probably move mountains by now? Tiny little Toph who had the vindictive streak of an enraged Honey-badger-raccoon, and just as much cleverness?

“Find them!”She ordered sharply.

She didn’t start thinking clearly again after that until she had an approximate heading and a vague description of the people they were looking for. This was not how she’d imagined finally being reunited with the girl she’d been forced to leave behind, but she also wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass her by.

She’d promised herself that when Toph was ready, she’d be waiting. Jin Wei Pei was not in the habit of breaking promises.

(No matter how silent they’d initially been promised.)

* * *

Toph had not been expecting the fluffy, fuzzy, fascinating beast the Avatar called Appa to fly. She would have appreciated some warning, and had she more energy, she’d be way more pissed about it altogether. As it was, her stomach had elected to take the scenic route somewhere along the harrowing, terrifying takeoff, and Toph was weakly clutching at the saddle in response.

Thankfully, the Jovial-Calm-Warrior guy they all called Uncle had shown her where she could loop her arms through the rim of the thing, or she’d have been throwing a fit.

(After her feet were on good, solid Earth again, she would emphatically deny she’d felt sick during the journey, but for right then, she was good just. Holding on for dear life, and trying not to lose her dinner over the rim of Appa’s saddle.)

Sokka - the thinner warrior - was still trying to figure out the ‘logistics’ for their time-line apparently, had been going over his ‘calculations’ with a critical and blabbering mouth, and trying to sketch out a schedule. She only knew he’d been trying to sketch something because his solid stick of charcoal had rolled into her foot and she’d latched onto it desperately for a feel of something _Earth_.

(She’d been wondering how anyone could sketch anything on a flying, moving beast, but had been too queasy to bother asking.)

He hadn’t asked for it back yet, but when he did, she was going to tell him no and laugh in his face. Suddenly they dipped dangerously and Toph tensed. Her stomach made a sudden reappearance, only to up and leave again, her body humming unpleasantly as they . . .

(They’d been flying for a while. Had they actually been looking for somewhere to land?)

“Are we landing?” She shouted, and hated that it sounded a little frantic.

“Yes. We’ve found a good looking camping ground.” Zuko responded from her other side, and Toph felt a disconcerted shiver race down her spine when the wind pressure shooting up past her face increased.

Their camping ground was woodsy and fresh and living, her senses alive with Earth-New-Solid when she finally scrambled out of the saddle and down the beast's side. There were more hills in this area, from the faint impressions she got, but they must not have traveled very far from the stretching forests of Gaoling Province - likely sticking to places that had a water source near-enough that making camp was reasonable.

Toph really didn’t care for all that though. All she cared about was the fact that she was on solid ground and her stomach had finally caught up to her. Even feeling the clench of nausea was better than feeling like there was a hole where her stomach should be.

“Hey Twinkle-toes,” she said lowly, and somewhere behind her Zuko stiffened - which was smart - but the Avatar turned to her light as a feather and chirped curiously.

Toph wasted no time in punching him in the arm. The very satisfying yelp of startled pain that she got in response eased her stomach, just a bit.

“What was that for?!” The boy cried.

“For not giving me warning that your pet flys!” She shouted back.

There was a short silence, and then an awkward, guilty shuffle of feet that would have been irritating, if she hadn’t also felt it was well deserved.

“Oh, yeah, sorry! I — well, I kinda forgot for a bit there that you were blind?” He offered slowly.

Which.

(Which was . . . Odd. Not bad odd, since he’d be the first person in her life to ever say something like that. Just. Odd. She almost liked it, hearing that someone had nearly forgotten about the key factor to her that most people couldn’t let go of.)

“Yeah, well, try to remember to give me a little warning for purely sighted-people things next time!” She grumbled, blustering to hide the no doubt too-honest expression of her own face.

(She hadn’t worn a mask around them from the start. This would have startled her if she hadn’t preemptively decided that her belt-stealing rival and his buddies didn’t deserve her fake sullen-deferral. They at least admitted that she was impressive.)

There was another guilty flinch, and the boy just — let it go, seeming to melt into excitement as soon as she seemed done yelling.

“Okay, but really, welcome _officially_ to Team Avatar!”

There was a muffled groan from behind them, and then Sokka’s voice, very clearly whining — “I thought we agreed to call ourselves The Gaang!”

A small argument started over that, one that Toph elected to ignore, when it became clear within the first few shouted sentences that they were referencing something she had no . . . Well, reference, for. Instead, she plucked up the bag not full of gold, then spent a couple minutes dumping the bags of winning gold onto the ground — all except one, which she figured she had every right to keep for herself — and then found a good rock to relax against.

A few minutes later, the group seemed to be - temporarily? - finished, and they all broke apart, buzzing around the campground like a hive of well-behaving tarantula-bees. Another minute after that, Ice Queen - whom she knew was called Katara, but given the way the girl walked and occasionally talked, the nickname fit better - approached her slowly.

“Toph? Could you make a fire-pit for us?” Soft, curious words, and Toph nearly scoffed.

“Course I can — that’s baby stuff.” She snorted, then stood, a quick-shifting of her feet, and several sharp jabs later, a fire pit and several curved, stone benches took up place in the middle of the camp.

Ice-Queen’s heart didn’t pitter-patter, didn’t stutter in the least when she shifted - a movement that to Toph read as though she’d turned to watch the Earth oblige Toph’s request, but was now looking back.

“Thank you. Uncle will likely be making tea soon, if you’d like to join the others around the fire.” And then the older girl was walking away, and Toph was . . . Confused.

She’d kinda expected more resistance to the fact that she was _very clearly_ lazing around. She’d kinda expected more . . . Something, from the rest of the group, to be honest, but after they’d made sure her things were down, they’d let her be.

(She wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t think she could help, or because they wanted her to offer. But.)

But the words Ice-Queen had said to her before she left had been an offer. Not an order, but something being given to her. Curious despite the small desire she had for a fight, Toph only allowed herself another minute to hesitate, and then shuffled towards where she could feel Uncle puttering around next to the fire pit.

From the clank of wood and the small vibrations, she knew he was getting ready to start a fire, but she didn’t taste the distinctive, sharp-brittle sense of spark-rocks anywhere.

(Except from where something muffled was clinking in a bag that Ice-Queen had just dropped next to where she was working.)

“Ah Toph, I was just wondering if you would like a cup of tea — you must had felt the itch of your nose, hmm?” The old man cooed, and while the words seemed happy, there was still an underlying feeling of sadness from the man.

(His sadness was one that came and went, almost like sunlight and clouds. There might be a better metaphor for it, but Toph had no claims to being a poet.)

She’d assumed that sadness had been directed purely at her human parents, since that was always the time it seemed to get worse, but maybe it was something else? Tilting her head at the no doubt old man, Toph fell into a crosslegged position close enough to the fire-pit to speak, but not to accidentally touch what would soon be a fire.

Uncle did . . . Something, something that made the Earth underneath him feel all sun-burned and alive, and then there was a fire where there hadn’t been before. Toph tilted her head in its direction, and felt herself smirk.

“So you, Sparky, and Sneaky _are_ Fire Benders!” She crowed, and somewhere behind her, where Zuko was helping Sokka put down what felt like bedrolls, the boy twitched, his heart pitter-pattering in surprise. Azula, who’d been hovering around Katara, simply shifted in Toph’s direction curiously.

“You . . . You could tell they were fire benders?” Aang asked from where she’d felt him dancing around Appa.

The two light-footed feathered creatures that had come and gone to the Compound over the last week stopped wrestling at the sound of the boys voice, though they shortly resumed. Much to the jumpy-screeching creatures displeasure.

Toph gave a smug shrug of her shoulders, let her grin speak for itself as she scooted a little closer to the heat curiously. Uncle shifted and then started, as if he’d been about to reach out but stopped himself last minute.

“It’s really not that hard to recognize a bender. They all stand a certain way, and after spending a week feeling you and Ice-Queen over there practice at the pond, recognizing when someone was getting into a stance became easier. Besides. All three of them feel so . . . Toasty.” She shrugged.

Sneaky shifted curiously where she stood, and then —

Toph rolled away from where she’d been sitting, slapping a hand down on the Earth. A wall rose up between her and where Sneaky stood, and Toph could feel the searing heat through the resulting impact of fire-meets-stone.

“Azula!” Uncle shouted sharply, all reprimand and frustration, and even though Toph had been able to feel the movements happening, had known she needed to block, her own heart was beating hard in her chest.

Because wow. That had been close.

“What? I was just curious, and besides. I knew she’d dodge it at the very least.” The girl responded, voice entirely unbothered for someone that had just tossed fire at a blind kid.

(Toph felt her lips kick up despite herself, felt something warm in her chest, because that — _that_ would be the first real-time that someone had acted as though her being blind didn’t affect her overall. That her blindness had no bearing on her capabilities.)

Still, she managed to school her expression and shifted the wall back down, frowning in the girl’s direction.

“What if I hadn’t? Do you normally just set people on fire?” She returned.

Sneaky kind of shifted without moving, still very unbothered, but everyone else did a lot of shuffling, and Sparky’s heart started beating in a find of dull, guilty way and —

“No way, really? You just go around setting people on fire?” She asked again.

“Don’t be silly. I haven’t done that since we left the Northern Water Tribe. We’re supposed to be incognito.” Azula finally huffed, and Toph contemplated the blasé, almost bored words the girl had said as they were slipping out her window.

(_Come on, we need to go before that guard at your door peeks in and I break my promise not to set people on fire._)

Definitely put into perspective how different her running away might have been, had the other girl not made a promise. The cackle that broke out of her throat was unintentional, but entirely honest.

“I knew you were fun, but I didn’t know you were also crazy. This is going to be way better than I originally thought it would!” She laughed, and then laughed some more when the girl sniffed loudly and very clearly turned away from Toph, stomping back towards whatever Ice-Queen was doing.

“I would like to know how, exactly, a bunch of Fire benders ended up traveling with the Avatar, whose been openly fighting against the Fire Nation,” Toph added, moving back over to where she’d been sitting.

The rock and dirt was all warm underneath her, and coupled with the heady scent of clay and silt, it made Toph want to curl up like an armadillo-lion in the sun.

Aang was suddenly there, bouncing lightly over the Earth and settling close, but not too close.

“Well, there are a couple of different exonerating factors!” The boy declared, which earned a proud-sounding chuckle from Sokka, and a long sigh from Zuko.

“Spill!” Toph ordered.

The others shortly joined them while Aang spoke, and then Uncle was handing out tea - which was oddly, some of the best tea she’d ever had - and then Katara and Sokka started contributing to the story. She was, being honest, having a pretty good time, despite the internal weariness that this — the comfortable companionship, the near-soft way they seemed to be trying to include her — it would all start to fade once they got tired of her abrasiveness.

(Once they got tired of who she actually was. She’d been told enough by the other Rumble Fighters that little girls shouldn’t act like she did, so she was assuming it was only a matter of time until these guys started doing the same. And destined teacher to the Avatar or not, Toph wasn’t about to sit through that judgment again.)

“Anyway, long story short, Agni chose Zuko and Uncle Iroh to help guide me through the world, and eventually my training I guess, because Ozai isn’t actually Agni’s Chosen.” Aang finally ended, after they’d described spirits that Toph couldn’t exactly picture, but sounded very interesting, and Katara and Sokka’s harrowing first meeting with the Fire benders they now treated like family.

“And Ozai is the current monarch of the Fire Nation, right?” She verified.

Wei Pei had given her some lessons about the Fire Nation and it’s culture, mostly based on a former soldier's perspective, but those had only ever occurred when they were far away from the Bei Fong household.

(Because Lao Bei Fong would have thrown a monumental fit if he knew that Wei Pei was being so blatant about the war and the ‘enemy,’ with his fragile tea-cup of a daughter.)

“Fire Lord Ozai is the current head of the Nation, but he wasn’t chosen by Agni. He merely assumed the role.” Zuko piped up, something . . . Odd, in his voice and his heart-beat.

(His heart was beating like the wings of a Humming-spider-bird, too fast to be healthy, and tinged with sickly something.)

Sneaky froze where she’d been poking at something heavy and metal in the middle of the fire, and Uncle shifted closer to the boy.

“So who is?” She asked curiously, settling her feet flat against the Earth and listening.

The whole group had a general air of exasperated fondness about them - which she readily admitted, she didn’t realize she could read from people until that moment - while Zuko seemed, perplexingly enough, to relax fully. There was a dutifulness to his voice when he spoke that she knew he absolutely believed every word he was saying.

(And that was without accounting for the sudden steady beat of his heart.)

“Uncle Iroh,” the boy said slowly, “he was supposed to be the one to claim the throne, but Ozai took it while Uncle was . . . distracted. But he’s Agni’s Chosen, was supposed to be the one on the throne.”

Toph might have believed the words — if it wasn’t for the fact that the Uncle in question sighed the slightest bit, and Sneaky was still frozen not moving overmuch, and Aang wasn’t bouncing his knee rapidly, like there was something he wanted to say, but wasn’t.

(But besides all of that, she had spent the last week arguing with and slowly getting to know these people, and she herself had never noticed the sunlight more than when she was standing next to Zuko, and could almost feel the warmth of it like a blanket that shrouded him. After spending two years getting to know her own Spirit Father, she was something of an expert at determining who was spirit touched, and this boy—)

Zuko wasn’t just touched. Even with the sun - or Agni’s eye, as she’s heard the Fire benders refer to it - long gone, there was a sense of sunlight about the boy.

“Huh.” She grunted, turning her head in Aang’s direction and arching her brow in question.

She felt him twitch, felt Sokka and Katara pause, because they must have seen the look, and Aang was speaking in a fast rush.

“Yeah so anyway! Zuko and Uncle traveled with us from the South Pole, and then Azula ended up being in the North Pole because she ran away from home to find Zuko, and also because she made plans to instigate a Civil War and did a lot of treason, and now here we are!”

(That didn’t answer her silent question. So. Okay. Not a discussion to have with Zuko present, pr just not something she had a right to know yet?)

After Diner, she formed her own tent by bending two slabs of Earth over herself, and for a little while, the sound of the others moving around, getting comfortable, it kept her awake. She could feel them flickering over her awareness, creating shapes and masses inside her mind that fluttered every time they resettled.

Eventually, sleep did come.

(She dreamed of the comforting presence of Fur matted with heady clay, of two large, large paws that surrounded her and held, protective and loving. Somewhere nearby something icy-cold laughed, and somewhere opposite of that, warm-seeping light danced over her skin in welcome.)

She woke up feeling more refreshed than she ever had, and just in time to listen to Sokka vocally complaining about being woken up before Agni was even on the horizon. Curiously, the whole camp was also awake, and they shuffled further away from the campsite as one. Toph followed out of curiosity, and the groggy need for something to drink. 

She got treated to watching them all go through early morning drills that were slightly familiar but foreign all the same.

“Do you all usually practice together?” She asked, from where she’d claimed a seat on the edge of the clearing by the small spring they’d chosen to camp next to, toes dug deep to get a clear picture of where they all where.

Katara and Aang paused where they stood on the edge of the spring, going through what must have been warm-ups for Water bending.

(Fluid motions and push-pull, the two of them practically dancing in one place.)

"Usually, yeah," Aang started slowly, still shifting over the earth, but not moving. 

"We have to know how to fight as a unit," Sokka added from where he was doing a good impression of an Opposum-Weasel on the ground, limbs splayed.

Zuko and Azula didn't stop moving a little further on, movements fierce and quick, and if not for the lack of heat, she'd swear they were bending. Toph tried not to shift her full attention towards the pair, because she was sure that if they were actually trying to hurt each other, someone sighted would stop them.

"Huh," Toph finally grunted, then stood to move back toward the campsite. 

She knew they were watching her go, but she wasn't about to invite herself to what was clearly an everyday occurrence. She'd agreed to teach the Avatar bending. She'd agreed to travel with him. She hadn't yet decided if she wanted to be fully considered as a part of his 'unit.' Just in case.

(Just in case they thought she was too abrasive or too stubborn or too . . . something.)

Toph Bei Fong was used to carrying her own weight, and this included the weight of her thoughts - the weight of worry that even though she appeared to be welcome, something would happen that would change that. A lifetime of being repressed didn't lend well to easy trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter is looking to be a little bit of filler, so that the Gaang can try to get used to each other. Aagin, so sorry for the wait!  
As always, let me know if you notice any serious issues with grammar?


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